


Just Stumble On In

by madiv951



Category: Teen Wolf (RPF)
Genre: Clubbing, F/M, I suck at tagging, Shower Sex, dylan/fan relationship, like seriously, lots of fluffy fluff, real life AU, set trip, this is oozing tooth-rotting fluff, wee bit of angst/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1537937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madiv951/pseuds/madiv951
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I suck at summaries.</p><p>Basically, Mary goes to the set of Teen Wolf and meets Dylan. Cutesie crap ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

My entire body is shaking like a leaf and I feel like I am about to pass out. I shouldn’t be this nervous. It isn’t even something I should be scared about. Only excited and maybe a little anxious. Anxious that I will say something stupid and make a fool of myself.

            “Hey, are you okay? You are trembling…” Nick pats my shoulder and looks at me, concern clearly written on his face. “You are allowed to be excited. This is kind of crazy that we are getting the chance to do this, but you have to stop shaking.” I nod and take a few breaths to steady myself.

            My efforts are completely thwarted as the taxi pulls up to the property. Nick’s hand is a warm anchor on my shoulder as we walk toward the security gate. Nick does all of the talking due to the fact that I am focusing all of my energy towards not completely freaking out.

            “Hi, we are here to visit the Teen Wolf set. My aunt, Lynn Tallman, arranged our visit. Our names should be here.” I barely hear the guard ask for our IDs over the pounding of my heart in my ears. “Here you go.” We are cleared and Nick has to link arms with me and pull me to get my feet moving again. “Mary, take a breath. You are going to be fine.” I un-link my arm from his and bend over, resting my palms on my knees and trying to get my heart rate under some illusion of control. After a minute or two, I feel well enough in control that I won’t pass out when I meet the glory that is Dylan O’Brien or Tyler Hoechlin.

 

            After a tour of the giant studio (and very disappointingly, not running into any of the cast), we are taken into a room by a petite woman who takes her job way too seriously.

            “Okay, these are contracts that you must sign before we continue on. These legally bind you from leaking any information about the show that you may learn while here. Pictures are allowed in specified areas that will not reveal any information about the upcoming season. Please sign and initial where indicated. Then we can continue to where filming is currently taking place.” I skim over the paragraphs, searching for any hidden clauses. Finding none, I sign and hand it back to the woman. “Wonderful!” The woman claps her hands together and ushers us back out of the room. Thankfully, the woman leaves us in the hands of a young guy who seems much more low-key.

            “I’m Jason and I apologize for Jenny. She is a little uptight, but she means well. So, we are heading onto set and they are currently filming. So, you need to be quiet. You can whisper, as that won’t be picked up by the audio equipment. Also, because you just signed that contract, you cannot take pictures here. Other than that, it’s pretty open-ended.” He tugs open a door and nods for us to follow.

            Inside is dark and seems more crowded than it should be. There are nearly a dozen cameras and around three times as many people. Immediately, I begin seeking out the faces I have come to know so well. Nick chuckles beside me, but I know he is looking too.

            My heart nearly ends up in my throat as none other than Tyler Hoechlin wanders in front of us. He is sporting Derek’s signature leather jacket and black jeans. Tyler’s head is ducked down as he studies what I assume is the script.

            “Tyler!” Jason whisper-shouts in his direction. Tyler picks his head up and flashes a smile that would have knocked me off my feet were it not for the sudden death grip Nick has on my arm. “You got a second?” He nods and walks over.

            “Hey Jason, who’s this?” Nick lets out a weak noise.

“I’m Mary. This is Nick.” I surprise even myself with how steady my voice is. “His aunt works for MTV and scored us a day on set.” Tyler gives a warm smile and a nod of approval.

“That’s cool. So you guys must be big Teen Wolf fans then.” I glance at Nick, checking if he has snapped out of it yet. He is still clinging to my arm, frozen.

“Yeah, I started watching when 3A came on. I caught up with Netflix.” Tyler nods as a loud bell-like noise sounds through the large room. I must look confused because he explains that it means the filming of that scene is done and they have 45 minutes until the next begins.

“You picked a really good day to come. I think everyone is here today. Dylan! Posey! Get over here!” Again, my heart leaps into my throat. I begin to wonder how I haven’t had a heart attack yet. The two of them come trotting over, shoving at each other’s shoulders and laughing. “This is Mary and Nick. They are visiting set for the day.”

Pictures are taken and a few videos are filmed because I love my friends at home who didn’t get to come. At some point, Daniel and Keahu wander over, the twins in tow. Crystal and Holland pause for a quick picture before they have to go film. Just as everyone has ever said about this cast, they are some of the nicest people I have ever met. Keahu and Charlie have to go film, but as they leave, I whisper to Keahu that Dethan is my favorite couple. He beams and I swear those dimples could melt chocolate.

“I have call in 15 minutes, so I should get going. It was so nice to mean you guys. Thank you for being such great fans.” Posey gives us both big hugs and turns to Hoechlin. “You coming?” He jerks his head toward a set and the Tylers move away. Dylan remains near us, but stays quiet, hands shoved into the pockets of the red jeans he is wearing.

“So, how long are you guys in town for?” He scratches at the back of his neck and briefly turns into Stiles.

“Just for three days. We flew in yesterday, on set today, spend tomorrow exploring LA, and then fly home on Sunday.” _How am I being so calm about this? I should be freaking out! I am talking to the biggest celebrity crush I have ever had!_

“Cool, LA is nice.” Nick nudges me with his elbow and quirks an eyebrow. He has obviously snapped out of the state of shock he was in earlier. _What?_ Nick throws a glance toward Dylan. _Yeah, Dylan O’Brien is standing in front of us. It’s crazy._ He shakes his head and pulls out his phone. The pocket of my jacket buzzes a few moments later.

**_-Dude, I think he is trying to hit on you…- N_ **

“Hey Jason, I am done for today, so I can finish showing them around, if you want,” Dylan offers, glancing my way and trying to hide the small smile on his lips.

“Yeah, go for it. I’d like to get home early today anyway.” Jason claps Dylan on the shoulder and my phone goes off again.

**_-Told you.- N_ **

I ignore it.

 

Dylan loosens up as the day progresses. By the afternoon, he is cracking jokes at my expense and casually bumping shoulders with me. A smile is plastered on his face and I know I am wearing one to match. Nick makes up some excuse about wanting to see the make-up trailer and leaves me alone with Dylan, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he does so.

“So you must be pretty smart of you are a microbiology major. That sounds hard. I hated biology in high school.”

“It can be hard, but I love it. Biology is to me what baseball is to you. I’ve had a passion for it since I was little.” He nods, looking like he is trying to understand why anyone would like science.

“Nerd,” he mutters, bumping his shoulder into mine again. This time, it takes me by surprise and knocks me off balance. I stumble, one foot catching on the other and sending me to the ground. “Oh shit! I am so sorry! Are you okay?” The only response I have is to bust up laughing. “You might be clumsier that I am. And that is saying something. Ask T-Po how many times I eat shit while filming…”

“Are you going to help me up or just continue to insult me?” I feign offense, but there is no real heat in my words. His face flushes bright red as he holds out his hand. So what if I let my hand linger in his for a little longer than is absolutely necessary? So what if I end up in his personal space with the sudden overwhelming urge to kiss him?

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Dylan’s words snap me back to reality, causing me to drop his hand and take a few steps back. I nod, willing the red coloring my face to go away. “Have you acted before?”

“Sort of. I was in two musicals in high school and I’ve taken a few improv classes, but I don’t see how that’s asking for a favor…”

“Could you run lines with me?” Dylan takes on a hopeful expression in place of the embarrassed one he was wearing a few moments ago. “I don’t have a girl to run them with until next week and I like to get a head start.” I try not to nod too enthusiastically.

 

Dylan hands me a copy of the script once we are in his trailer. I begin scanning the page and my breath gets caught in my lungs.

“Uh… This is, um, kind of an intense scene for someone who doesn’t have very much experience…” The papers in my hand hold a sex scene. Not a super _involved_ sex scene, but one none the less that includes kissing and shirtlessness. The idea of kissing Dylan has my heart pounding painfully against my ribs.

“I guess so… I just thought that I could run it with you because you are really easy to talk to. But if you don’t want to, that is totally fine. I completely understand.” His face falls slightly, and it may or may not break my heart just a little.

“No, I want to. It’s just, I doubt I’ll be any good. I’ve never done _this_ kind of acting before. And… Uh… What about your girlfriend?” He looks at me, obviously extremely confused. “Aren’t you still with Britt?”

“Oh, no. Definitely not. We broke up like five months ago. So, don’t worry about upsetting anyone.” Dylan flashes a smile and pats the couch next to him.

“Where do you want to start?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from quivering as I sit down.

“We’ll start with ‘I told you’ and just relax. Don’t over think it. Just do what feels natural.” _Yeah, because making out with Dylan O’Brien is_ totally _natural…_ Taking a deep breath, I flip open the script.

“I told you, I’m always cold.” I can feel myself starting to shake, but it is not from cold like the scene describes.

“It’s okay… Here…” Dylan encloses the hand not holding the script in both of his. His hands are surprisingly soft, but I can tell they are very strong. “Wow, you really are…” He laughs quietly and I begin to relax into the scene. Dylan looks at me and I realize that I now have Stiles sitting in front of me. He leans forward and his lips are on mine. _Dylan O’Brien is kissing me._ And it’s amazing. His lips are soft and know exactly what they are doing. He moves away far too soon and I have to remind myself that we are running lines. “Was that your first kiss?” His voice is low and hoarse, making something warm curl up low in my stomach. I nod, letting out a shaky breath. Thankfully it fits the scene well enough that I could just pull it off as really good acting. “Was it good?” I can’t help the small laugh that pushes out of my lungs. I nod again and he gives me a soft smile. “Wanna try again?” I return his smile and move toward him, beginning to feel more confident. Dylan’s hand comes to rest on my jaw, thumb sweeping over my cheekbone. I flick my tongue across his bottom lip. He pulls back and I panic, thinking I’ve pushed too far, before his lips meet the skin just below my left ear. An embarrassing noise comes out of me at the contact.

“If you wanted to kiss me, all you had to do was ask.” His smile is evident on my skin. Dylan pulls away to look at me.

“I don’t think that is one of the lines.”

“I don’t think I care,” I quip. Dylan hauls me back in, much less tentative than before. His tongue pushes into my mouth as his hand winds into the hair at the nape of my neck. The kiss is warm and wet and definitely the best kiss I have ever had. Not that I have too many to compare it to. All thoughts other that Dylan are destroyed as he finds that spot under my left ear again. My hand instinctively moves to tangle into his hair. It is absurdly soft. Seriously, no one’s hair should be this soft.

A loud knock echoes from the door as it opens, causing us to flinch away from one another. T-Po pokes his head in the door and immediately gives us a knowing look.

“Whatcha doin’?” He raises an eyebrow and looks at Dylan expectantly. Dylan’s hair is sticking up in ten different directions and there is a blush covering his face and neck. I can only assume I look similar.

“Nothing,” we both spit out at the same time. Tyler laughs and enters, Nick in tow. My phone buzzes and I know what it says before I even open the message.

**_-GET SOME!!!- N_ **

I glare at him and he just snickers. Tyler tells Dylan that Hoechlin is looking for him. He throws me a glance, obviously not wanting to leave. Once Dylan is gone, Tyler smiles at me like he knows my secret. It shouldn’t make me blush, but my face turns a deep red.

 

Posey shows us a few more things around the studio that we haven’t seen. We are standing, chatting with some extras and Daniel, when Hoechlin and Dylan walk up.

“Dylan had an idea!” Hoechlin blurts, making Dylan punch him. The extras take that as their cue to leave. T-Po and Daniel exchange an awkward look and turn to leave, obviously not wanting to be involved in whatever weirdness is about to happen.

“You suck… Well, I don’t have to be back on set until 4:30 tomorrow. So I was wondering if I could show you LA tonight. Tyler said he could come too.” The tips of his ears turn red and it is the most endearing thing I have ever witnessed. He shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks absently at the floor.

“I am supposed to have dinner with my aunt tonight, but you should go, Mary. It sounds like fun.” Nick gives me a suggestive look and I have to fight back the urge to hit him.

“Yeah, it does sound like fun. What did you have in mind?” I don’t miss the wide grin that flits across Dylan’s features.

“There is a new club opening tonight and I thought it would be fun…”

“It does, but there are two problems.” Dylan’s face falls quickly. “One, I am only 18. And two, I don’t have anything to wear to a club… All I brought is this,” I tug on the cotton dress and jean jacket I’m wearing, “and like jean shorts and tank tops.” He looks thoughtful for a few moments before becoming excited.

“A friend owes me a favor and can get you in. As far as what to wear, I’ll take you to get something.” _Did he just offer to buy me stuff?_ The butterflies in my stomach don’t stir at that _at all_. “We can go now, if you want.” Turning to tell Nick that I’d see him later, I notice he has wandered off, along with Tyler. I nod and have to consciously stop my heart from leaping out of my chest when Dylan reaches to tangle his fingers with mine.

 

There is a girl staring at me from the mirror and I have no clue who she is. She is tall and confident and _gorgeous_. Her red hair is perfectly straight with her blue eyes piercing through beautifully done make-up. The tight black skirt and 5-inch heels make her legs look a million miles long. The blue shirt makes her eyes seem even brighter. The grey studded jean vest makes her look like the kind of girl you don’t mess with.

I feel powerful. The knowledge that I am going to club with Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O’Brien plants a permanent smile on my face. It might be a little smug, but I couldn’t care less. A knock on the door snaps me out of my self-appreciation. On the other side of my hotel room door stands Dylan, looking almost edible in black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a grey jacket. I don’t have the self-control to stop myself from raking my eyes up and down his body. The jeans hug him in the perfect way, leaving just enough to the imagination. I have to bite my tongue so I don’t ask him to turn around. His ass probably looks phenomenal…Reaching his face, his mouth is open and his eyes are wide.

“Uh, wow… You look great…” He clears his throat and scratches at the back of his neck. “Oh, Tyler said he is going to meet us there.” Dylan sounds slightly breathless and I can’t help but beam at the fact that I am the reason behind it. I gladly take his offered hand, muttering a thank you.

 

The front of the club is crazier than anything I have ever seen in my life. Not a single person is anything less than stunning. The usher waves us in without even checking our IDs. Dylan just winks at me, tugging me through the door.

If outside was crazy, there aren’t words to describe the inside of the club. The music is so loud I can feel my ribcage rattling. The dance floor is packed. Dylan tugs me toward the bar, obviously noticing I am far too sober to handle this much stimulation.

“What’s your poison?” He shouts into my ear when we finally get through the crowds to the bar.

“Anything with tequila!” I shout back. He looks impressed and gets the bartenders attention. I am too busy taking in my surroundings to hear what he orders. A few moments later a double shot of tequila is pushed into my hand. Dylan smiles devilishly and clinks his glass against mine. I enjoy the smooth burn of the liquid sliding down my throat, then cutting through it with the lime. The empty glass is replaced with another full one, which is then replaced with another. As soon as I place the glass on the bar, Dylan has my hand and is tugging me toward the dance floor. “Oh hell no! I am still too fucking sober for that!” I get another wink as he completely disregards my complaint.

Somehow, we end up in the middle of the floor. Dylan begins to move and I have to take a deep breath, despite the distance still between us. It should be illegal for anyone to move that way. His hips are following the beat perfectly, his face calm and happy. Tossing a glance around us, a girl to my left catches my attention. Her bright pink lips are curled back in a predatory smile that is aimed directly toward Dylan. She looks like she is about to move in on him and that sends a wave of possessiveness and jealousy through me. I take a step forward and toss my arms around Dylan’s neck, pulling his body flush against mine. My lips catch his and it only takes him a moment to respond.

Knowing I’ve made my point, I pull away and send a sickly sweet smile her direction. She rolls her eyes and goes back to dancing with her friends.

“What was that?” Dylan yells, a smile on his lips. I blush at the fact that he noticed my display.

“She looked like she was going to make a move. I had to show her that wasn’t an option.” Dylan just smiles and wraps his arms around my waist, our hips falling in rhythm with one another.

 

Some amount of time passes and I can feel the tequila creating a comfortable fog over my thoughts. I feel relaxed and confident pressed up against Dylan.

“Am I interrupting?” The voice barely registers, but Dylan turns to acknowledge it. He creates some space between us to talk to the person that I now notice is Tyler. The three of us head back to the bar and Tyler buys us more drinks.

 

I manage to pull the two of them back onto the dance floor. Immediately, Dylan is back to pressing against me. What surprises me is when I feel another warm body press up against my back. A glance over my shoulder tells me that I am now sandwiched between Dylan _and_ Tyler, though Tyler isn’t looking at me the way Dylan is. To him, I am just someone fun to dance with. That doesn’t stop me from grinding back into him and winding a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck. I let my head fall back onto his shoulder and Dylan takes full advantage of the exposed skin, running his lips over the tendon of my neck. A shudder runs through me as his teeth close down over the spot he discovered earlier today.

I am definitely drunk now and I can tell that Dylan and Tyler are feeling it too. The three of us are panting and I am suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to climb Dylan like a fucking tree. Shoving at his shoulder, I give him a look that I hope will get the point across. Dylan’s eyes darken and he shouts something to Tyler that I don’t hear.

“Let’s go.” Dylan grabs my hand and I don’t even have time to say goodbye to Tyler before he is hauling me away. We hit the door and he slows down, well aware of the fact that there could be pictures taken and published. Dylan proceeds at a slower, calmer pace down the street. “My apartment is five blocks North. You sober enough to walk?”

“Hey, my alcohol tolerance is higher than you’d think. And I am walking just fine. In these absurd heels, might I add.” I lift my foot to show him and lose my balance. He catches my elbow and gives me a suspicious look. “Shut up. Don’t make me change my mind…” At that, he is back to tugging me down the sidewalk.

 

I wish I could say that Dylan’s apartment is nice, but I don’t have the time to take it in before Dylan is on me like nobody’s business. My hands are in his hair. His never linger in one place for too long. Skimming over my sides, brushing against my jaw, sneaking under the hem of my shirt. I give in to the urge to get my lips on that perfect neck and shove his jacket off his shoulders to get at his collarbone. Dylan’s hands leave my sides to rid of his shirt.

The absolute glory of his body stuns me slightly. There is a thin layer of dark hair covering his chest and his happy trail practically calls my name. The glee his body hair causes me can’t be hidden. My hands can’t get on him fast enough. Dylan catches my lips in another kiss that is all teeth and tongue. I smooth my hand down his chest to the button of his jeans. It’s easily undone and I slip my hand down between his jeans and boxers. The contact with Dylan’s previously trapped hard-on makes him hiss loudly against my lips and become even more frantic.

“How are you still fully clothed?” he forces out against my neck. His hands tug fruitlessly at my clothes. “Off. Now.”

“How about the bedroom first?” Dylan groans and hooks his hands behind my thighs. Jumping slightly, I hook my ankles behind his back. To be honest, I am slightly surprised he takes all of my weight so easily.

 

After being unceremoniously tossed onto his bed, Dylan nearly rips off my vest and shirt. I push him away and tug his jeans down. He kicks them off in some direction and slides his body up mine. Dylan lets me flip us, so that I am straddling his thighs. His tight blue boxer briefs are far too appealing to go untouched. I shuffle down the bed and move to mouth at the outline of his cock through the fabric. The moan I earn is the hottest thing I have ever heard in my life.

“Can I mark you?” Dylan nods furiously before pressing his head back into the mattress and moaning again. I graze my teeth over his hip bone and smile at the twitch of his hips into my touch. I bite down hard over the sharp bone and Dylan fucking _whines_. Soothing the mark with my tongue, I suck and bite until the skin is a beautiful reddish-purple.

“Mary, you’re killing me…” Something in me takes pity in Dylan’s wrecked voice. A few moments later, the rest of our clothes are strewn about the room and Dylan is digging around in his nightstand for a condom.

“Gimme,” I mutter, once he finds it. He hands it over, eyes widening when I rip it open with my teeth. I pull out my favorite trick and roll the condom down his length with only my lips and tongue. He is slightly longer than my gag reflex can handle, so I finish the job with my fingers. Dylan’s mouth is literally gaping. I simply move up and kiss him deeply. “Ready?”

“I was ready last week…” Dylan’s voice is low and hoarse, completely wrecked despite the fact that we have barely started. I brace one hand on his chest and use the other to line him up. Sinking down in one swift movement, a loud porn-sounding moan comes from my lungs. Dylan’s hands grip tightly to my hips as I set a steady pace.

“Fuck… You feel so good…” His eyes are squeezed shut, his breath short and uneven. His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth. I reach forward and pull it free. Dylan’s eyes open and the color is almost completely swallowed up by his blown-out pupils. “I want to hear you.” His hips begin to snap up to meet mine, changing the angle just slightly. The change has him hitting _that_ spot with every thrust. “Holy… Oh god…” I moan out, my rhythm faltering. Dylan seems to notice and fluidly flips us, him now between my legs. “Pillow…” One is shoved under my hips and I lock my ankles at the small of his back, searching for the perfect angle. Dylan leans over me, covering my body with his. I curl my arms around his neck as he goes back to hitting my sweet spot with every thrust. The pleasure coursing through my veins has me practically keening. “Jesus Christ… Right there… That’s it…” A long moan escapes me as Dylan groans into my neck. My orgasm starts to build in my stomach, seeping into my limbs.

“So… beautiful…” Dylan pants.

“So close… Don’t…” My brain can’t form coherent thoughts as I teeter on the edge. He mumbles something against my neck that sounds like ‘Me too’ and my orgasm is ripping through me. Every muscle drawn tight, Dylan’s name screamed into his shoulder. I am about to complain about the oversensitivity of him pounding into me when his rhythm stutters to a halt and his teeth are sinking into my shoulder. “Holy… mother… of god.” Dylan huffs out a laugh as he pulls out and discards the condom, flopping down next to me.

“I feel sweaty…” I just hum, unable to form sentences just yet. “Wanna take a shower?” I grumble and curl into his side. “Come on. We are getting sticky.” He pushes off the bed and walks to the bathroom, bare ass in all its glory. I hear the water turn on. “You coming?”

“Gimme a second… I’m still trying to gauge if I can walk.” His laughter echoes through the room. “I meant that my legs feel like Jell-o! Stop laughing!” I wander into the bathroom and he is already in the shower, rubbing shampoo through his hair. As quietly as I can manage, I slip in behind him. Before I can wrap my arms around him like I’d planned, he turns and presses his soapy forehead to mine. “Hi.”

“You seem to be walking fine.” I lightly punch his shoulder and lean to press a kiss to his lips. “Hey, just so you know, I don’t usually do this…”

“What? Shower? That’s gross, Dylan.” He rolls his eyes.

“No… I don’t do this kind of thing with people I’ve just met. That’s not me. But there is something about you. You’re easy to talk to. You’re smart and funny, as well as beautiful.” I tuck my head against his chest, trying to hide the blush on my cheeks. Dylan’s hand catches my chin and pulls it so I have to look at him. “I mean that. Something about you just clicked with me. I don’t know what it is, but I’m hoping I’ll get the chance to find out…”

“This just in, Teen Wolf star Dylan O’Brien is a total sap…” He glares at me and turns away, beginning to wash the shampoo out of his hair. “But I want to find out too,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around his torso and pressing kisses over his bare shoulders. My fingers sneak lower, tugging slightly at his happy trail. He tries to hide the gasp, but I catch it anyway. My fingers continue on their adventure south, ghosting over his length. Dylan’s breath hisses through his teeth.

“Not yet… I’m not 18…” He turns to face me and kisses me deeply, trying to distract me from my endeavors south of the border.

“Dylan, you are 22. It’s not like you are old by any standard.” Dylan simply shrugs and goes back to kissing me. This time, it’s his hand that sneaks slowly downward. Despite the fact that I still slightly oversensitive, a quiet moan is pulled from my lungs as his fingers trace over my clit. He starts placing kisses over my chest and stomach, sinking to his knees. Dylan’s tongue replaces his fingers and if he didn’t have his hands wrapped around my thighs, I’d be on the floor of the shower. “Dylan…” One of my hands winds into his hair while the other moves to his shoulder to steady myself. “Every fanfiction I have ever read was 100% correct about your mouth…” He pulls back and gives me a questioning look. “Did I say stop?” Dylan snickers and goes back to torturing me with his tongue. My legs are starting to shake and I know he can feel it. His mouth closes over me and sucks hard. Before I can register what’s happening, I am coming _hard_ and Dylan just fucking licks everything up. I swear I pass out for a fraction of a second. I let out some incoherent noise and Dylan slowly stands, smirking.

“You alright, there?” I wave my hand at him, attempting to catch my breath. He lets out another weak laugh and pulls me into a kiss that I am barely aware enough to return. The taste of me is sharp on his tongue as it slides into my mouth. Pulling away, I rest my forehead on his shoulder, still slightly breathless.

“So much for showering…”

 

Contently curled into Dylan’s chest, I let out a sigh. He presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“Thank god for Teen Wolf,” he mutters. I pick up my head to look at him and he has a goofy smile on his lips. “If Teen Wolf didn’t exist, you couldn’t watch it and then you wouldn’t have gotten to come to LA. And I wouldn’t have met you.” The only response I have is to nuzzle into his neck and try not to blush. “Seriously. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I’m usually shy with new people and it takes me a while to open up, but you got through to me so fast. It was like as soon as you started talking, I wanted to get to know you. I wanted to, I still want to, learn everything about you. If you’ll give me a chance, or course.”

“You seriously think I’d say no after everything that we just did?” Dylan shrugs, suddenly looking self-conscious. “What you said in the shower about not getting involved with people you’ve just met? I am the same way. This is probably the craziest thing I have ever done. But the only reason I did it is because I saw the prospect of it actually turning into something. I didn’t come into this wanting some quick fuck just because you are hot and famous. That’s not the kind of person I am.” I curl back into him and try not to think about the fact that I have to go home the day after tomorrow. Another sigh works its way out.

“Stop thinking so much. I can practically feel the wheels turning in your head.

We’ll figure it out. Go to sleep.”

 

            Sweaty and too hot, I shove at the heat that is pressed up against me. My head starts to pound as bits and pieces of last night begin to come back. Dylan bought me an outfit, we danced with Tyler, something about a shower. Dylan mumbles something in his sleep, startling me. I am still tucked possessively under his arm, curled tightly into his chest. _Well, that explains why I am so sweaty…_ A glance up at Dylan and I have to hold in a laugh. His hair is stuck up every which way and if I didn’t know the reason his hair looked like that, I’d think it was innocent and adorable. Instead it is only sexy and makes me want to kiss him awake. I can’t bring myself to interrupt the peace he seems to have fallen into. I take advantage of the luxury of the deep sleep he is in and stare up a storm. His relaxed features are burned into my brain; each mole and hard angle, the stubble lightly shadowing his jaw. _Take a picture. It’ll last longer._  The idea floats around in my head for a few seconds before I am scrambling for my phone.

            After nearly knocking over the lamp on his bedside table and just barely keeping my elbow from hitting his face, I snuggle back under his arm. The camera on my phone shows me that I look almost as ridiculous as Dylan does. It takes me about five minutes to get my hair to at least look somewhat normal before I put on a soft smile and snap a photo.

            Immediately, the photo becomes my screen saver. Dylan’s mouth is quirked up at one corner and his nose is slightly wrinkled up. My left-over make-up from last night doesn’t look nearly as horrendous as I thought it would. We fit perfectly together, me curled comfortably against his chest. Dylan stirs and makes me flinch and drop my phone onto his chest.

            “What are you doing?” How I don’t end up as a puddle on the bed is a mystery to me. His voice is rough from the shouting and tequila at the club and yet somehow soft at the same time. It makes me want to curl tighter against him and never leave. So I give into the urge and push my face into his neck. “What time is it?” He unlocks my phone and stares at the picture for a second before looking down at me and quirking an eyebrow? “When’d you take this?” I groan and try to rub away the blush that is threatening to burn me up in to his neck. “You should send it to me. Even if it’s a little creepy that you were watching me sleep.” I nip at his neck in retaliation for embarrassing me. One of Dylan’s hands finds my chin and tugs so he can kiss me, making a happy noise spring from my throat. The kiss doesn’t last long, but I am content enough not to chase Dylan when he pulls back.

            “Good morning,” I beam.

“Morning, beautiful,” he replies, pressing a kiss to my forehead. The butterflies in my stomach swirl around so excitedly it almost makes me dizzy. “How are you feeling after last night?” Not a single thought has been put toward how I was doing since I discovered the utter adorableness that is Dylan sleeping. Now that he brought it back to my attention, my head is pounding and I feel slightly nauseous. I simply shake my head and he lets out a huff of a laugh. “Yeah, me too. We got a little carried away and probably should have been a little more careful with how much we drank. You want to go get breakfast or stay here?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I could put myself together enough to go out in public. Besides, I don’t have anything to wear except what I had on last night and I wouldn’t consider that ideal breakfast attire.” Dylan laughs into my hair and nods. “Please tell me you have bacon?” He gives me an insulted look that only makes me smile. “Sorry I asked… Come on, up, I’m hungry and I want a tour. I have no idea what the rest of this place looks like.” I mentally fist pump when the tips of his ears and his neck turn red. Making Dylan blush is becoming my new favorite pass time. Dylan just watches as I slip the boxers I find on the floor under the large t-shirt I threw on last night. “Are you just going to stare all day or come help me make food?”

 

The bacon doesn’t help with our hangovers _at all_. We just end up hiding under a blanket on his large couch watching awful weekend daytime television and trying not to throw up. Dylan’s head is in my lap, allowing me to run my fingers through his hair and learn that it turns him into a puppy. The second my hand winds through it, he is pushing his head into my touch and his eyes flutter shut. The smile on my face can’t be fought.

 

At some point, we shift and I end up basically on top of Dylan, pressed against his chest and fitted neatly between his legs. The rhythmic lulls of his breathing put me to sleep and before I know it, I am woken up by a harsh knocking on the door. A low groan ripples out of Dylan’s chest as the lock clicks and the doors shuts.

“Dylan? You here?” A female voice rings out through his apartment, causing him to bolt upright and send me crashing to the floor. _I know that voice… Why do I know that voice?_

“ _Britt_?” Dylan’s voice is a mixture of confusion, horror, and utter fear. He scrambles up off the couch, completely oblivious to me being sprawled out across his carpet. “What the hell are you doing here? And why do you still have my key?” I peak over the edge of the couch just in time to catch her dragging him into a kiss. I don’t miss the way he melts into it and curls his arms around her waist. _Fucking bastard. You’re going to pay for that one…_ I gather up the blanket from the couch and slip out of his t-shirt, drawing the blanket around me.

“Babe, what are you… Oh…” I tuck my head in fake embarrassment and move to pull his arm around me. “Who’s this?” I look expectantly toward Dylan and Britt crosses her arms. I am certain he’ll give himself whiplash if he keeps looking between Britt and me so quickly.

“Uh… Erm… This is Britt… My… um… coworker…” Britt lets out a huff, telling me that she is something a little more than that still. “This is Mary… My… friend.” That one word shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. It shouldn’t rip through my chest and make me want to curl into a ball and cry. I shouldn’t make me as angry at Dylan as I am. Turning on my heel, I head to the bedroom to collect my clothes and get the hell out. I’m not surprised when Dylan doesn’t follow me. I do hear him say “You can sit down. I need a second.” By the time he gets to the bedroom, I have tugged my skirt and shirt back on and am searching for my purse. “Mary… Give me a second to explain…”

“What is there to explain? You lied to me. You told me that you and Britt were done and had been for a while.” He opens his mouth to say something, but I continue on, suddenly raging. At which one of us, I am not sure. “How could I be so stupid? I got fooled by your cute smile and charm. I let you get me drunk and I let you in. ‘I don’t usually do this kind of thing.’ Bullshit. Fucking bullshit. I bet you use that line on every girl who meets your fancy…”

“Mary…” He makes to grab at my arm and pull me to him, but I don’t let him touch me. “Britt and I _are_ over. Have been for about five months now. I don’t know why she is here. I don’t know why she has my key when she gave back the one she had before. I don’t know what she wants, but please, just give me a minute and I’ll get her out. Please stay. Please.” His brown eyes plead with me in a way that makes me want to hurl my shoe at his head. _You can’t let him get to you like that. He is worming his way out of all this. Don’t let him._

“Why should I believe you? She looks like she is still pretty invested in whatever that was…”

“That’s because _I_ broke up with _her_. She has been trying to get back with me since I left her. To be honest, she is a little crazy. She got too demanding and possessive, so I said goodbye. Go ask her. She wouldn’t lie about it.” I shove past him and find Britt sitting on a barstool, innocently sipping coffee.

“Okay, this lying bastard seems to think that if I talk to you, it will clear things up.” She ducks her head, attempting to hide the guilty look on her face. “He told me that you two broke up five months ago. Is that true?” There is a tense silence between us and she just pulls at a sting from her sweater. “Britt, I need to know if I need to punch that idiot in the face for the both of us.”

“He isn’t lying… I… um… made a copy of the key he gave me and thought I’d come see him. I had no idea he was seeing someone new or else I would have left it alone. I’m really sorry.” Britt finishes off her coffee and almost runs to the door, leaving without another word; the key left on the counter. I am left standing in the kitchen with my arms crossed and anger still boiling under my skin. Warm arms snake around me from behind, Dylan nosing at my neck apologetically.

“Don’t think you get off the hook that easily…” He makes a small noise at the back of his throat and pulls me back to the couch. “I really don’t want to deal with your crazy ex-girlfriends.” Another noise and I am drug onto his chest once more. “And cuddling isn’t going to magically make this disappear.” _But it’ll sure as hell help._ I wiggle out of Dylan’s grasp so I can sit up and look him in the eye. “How am I so wound up about this when I met you yesterday? This can’t be normal… It really can’t.” Dylan simply rolls his eyes and tugs me back down to kiss me.

“Why should it matter how long we’ve known each other? I really like you and I am like 87% sure you like me, too. It’ll suck to see you go back to school in Montana, but we are going to make it work. There’s Skype. We will talk every day. I’ll come visit you when I have time off, but when I can’t, you’ll come here. It will be okay.” Dylan goes back to nosing at my neck, this time leaving small kisses and nips in his path.

“Hey now, do I get any say in this? What if I never want to see you again and I just pretended to be invested in this so that I can tell the world I got in your pants?” His eyes go wide and misty. The shocked expression on his face melts into one of pure hurt and I can’t hold it any longer. “I don’t know why I said that… That was awful… I’m so sorry… Of course I want that. I want it all.” Each sentence is punctuated with a kiss to his jaw. Now I am the one nosing at his skin in an effort to apologize for my stupidity.

 

Eventually, we get a handle on our hangovers and manage to take another shower and get dressed. Dylan lends me a t-shirt and a pair of sweats that I have to roll five times before I’m not tripping over them, so I don’t have to put on my sweaty club clothes again.

Heading down to the parking garage of his apartment complex, the valet brings around a sleek black Audi that fits Dylan to a T. The interior is all smooth black leather and hard lines. I don’t miss the small chuckle that comes from him when I run my fingers over the dashboard. He reaches over and settles his hand on my knee, like it belongs there.

The ride to my hotel is relatively short and Dylan is able to get us in the door without anyone noticing who he is. Our luck continues as we have the elevator to ourselves. His hand sneaks around my waist, grabbing my ass and making me yelp as he does so. I glare at him, but he only smirks proudly at the elevator doors. The ping indicates my floor as I dig through my purse for my key card.

“Oh no… Don’t tell me it’s not in here… Shit. I really hope Nick is in our room…” I knock on the door and thank heavens above, Nick answers. “Hi, sorry, I left my key here. I just came to change and then I’m gonna go back to set with Dylan. You wanna come with?” Moving about the room, I tug a pair of shorts and a tank-top from my stuff. Dylan stands awkwardly by the door.

“Yeah sure. Did you guys have fun last night?” He shoots Dylan a look that makes him tuck his head and scratch the back of his neck. While Dylan isn’t paying attention, I hurl my shoe at Nick’s head, mouthing _Leave him alone!_ as he laughs and dodges the wedge.

“Yes we did. The club was great and Dylan and Tyler are really fun.” Nick knows not to push me any farther, so he turns to Dylan. I’m prepared to chuck my other shoe at his head, but he begins to ask Dylan innocent questions about what it’s like living in LA. Trusting that Nick won’t interrogate him while I am nearby, I head into the bathroom to throw on some make-up and make myself look presentable. “You gonna be ready to go, Nick?” He mumbles his affirmation and goes back to whatever he and Dylan are talking about.

 

Getting out of the hotel isn’t as easy as getting in was. There must be someone else famous showing up to stay at the hotel, because there are swarms of paparazzi standing out on the street. Dylan looks at me, obviously very worried. I squeeze his hand to reassure him that I’m fine with whatever he decides to do. He nods and takes a deep breath, throwing his arm around me and heading directly for the front door with me in tow. As soon as we hit the door, the cameras start to take notice of the new mystery girl that is has Dylan O’Brien’s arm draped around her shoulders. Flashes start snapping around us, a lot harsher than I thought they’d be. Luckily, Dylan’s car pulls up immediately, allowing us to make a quick getaway.

“You okay?” Dylan asks, his hand rubbing small circles on my knee. I nod and try not to freak out about the fact that those pictures are going to be in tons of different places.

“Are _you_ okay? That kind of just publicly declared that we are together. You sure that’s what you want?” Dylan gives me a look that says _I’m not even going to honor that with an answer._ “Right… Stupid question.”

 

Back on set, I am allowed to stay with Dylan while he goes through make-up and wardrobe. Nick wanders off to go talk to someone named Jake about something I wasn’t paying attention to.  Both Tylers wander into the make-up trailer at some point. Posey gives Dylan a look that makes his face go bright red, even under all the make-up. He mutters something to Dylan that sounds distinctly similar to _Get some_ and Dylan punches him as he leaves.

Hoechlin comes in and sits down next to me, patting my knee and smiling brightly. Apparently, it’s my turn to blush furiously. He nudges me with his elbow and tilts his head toward the door, asking me to follow him as he gets up.

Once outside the door, Tyler turns on me, but keeps his face soft and arms crossed.

“You probably have a good idea of what I am going to say to you…”

“Something along the lines of I hurt him, you hurt me?” Tyler laughs and uncrosses his arms. “I want you to know that I would never do anything that could hurt him. Or any of you, if I am being honest. I can see how much you all mean to each other and the fact that you all let me in so quickly means so much.”

“I trust that you wouldn’t. You just need to know that he may seem really carefree and goofy, but when he and Britt didn’t work out, it was really hard on him. He has a habit of seeing the best in people. I’m not saying that you aren’t a good person, I think you are. But you need to understand that he sees this as a long-term thing. This isn’t some fling for him. I haven’t seen him like this with anyone. So you need to be careful with him or we will all come after you.” Were it not for the soft smile on his face, I would actually be kind of scared of Tyler. He hugs me and goes to find Holland. I move back into the trailer and see that Dylan is done with make-up. He makes a worried face and I just lace my fingers with his. He tugs me toward his trailer and the make-up artist shouts something about not doing anything to ruin the make-up she just spent 45 minutes doing. Dylan waves his hand dismissively and pulls me along anyway.

As soon as the door shuts, I am crowded against it, Dylan pressing against me and sliding a thigh between my legs. His lips are insistent and warm. My fingers work under his shirt and press against his lower back. He starts to nip and suck at my neck, but I shove at his shoulder.

“If you give me a hickey before I have to spend a few hours around everyone, I am not going to kiss you again before I leave.” Dylan makes a face that turns him into a little kid who got his ice cream stolen. “Don’t give me that face. DO you want me to give you one so you have to go back to make-up and get it covered up and by that telling everyone what we are doing right now?” He blushes and shoves his face into my neck, but keeps his teeth to himself. “That’s what I thought. Oh, and Hoechlin threatened me.” Dylan’s head snaps up as his face goes beet red.

“He did _what_?” he hisses.

“Yup, he told me that if I hurt you, he’ll hurt me. And a couple other things that were actually really sweet, if you think about it.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Hey, it takes a hell of a lot more than a protective friend to scare this one off. It’s cool how close you all are, though.” Dylan makes a strangled noise into my neck and shakes his head. “It’s almost 6. Don’t you need to be somewhere?”

“Shit, yeah, I do. You can come watch and hang out with people who aren’t filming, if you want. But I’m working with Posey and Hoechlin, so they won’t bother you.” I nod and he gives me one more deep kiss before he rights his hoodie that has gone crooked from me tugging on it. “Let’s go…”

 

There are a few cat-calls from various cast and crew members. Dylan just tucks his head and flips a few people off, cursing under his breath and shaking his head. I simply smile brightly and wave. Every once in a while I plant a wet kiss on Dylan’s cheek. It earns me a glare from Dylan and cheers from the crew around us.

“You suck…” Dylan pokes me in the ribs and makes me yelp. “You love this, don’t you?” I try not to smile to widely and he pokes me again. “God, you are worse than Posey… I’m kind of doubting keeping you around.”

“Rude. I’d be nice if I were you. I could make this soooo much worse for you. And you have to stay here after I go back to school.” I wink at him and smack his butt. He yelps this time and glares. “My point exactly. Be careful.” Dylan stands stunned for a few moments before Jeff yells his name to get him on set. He kisses my cheek and glares at me, telling me to behave. “Break a leg, babe.” Holland and Crystal coo at the pet name, but fall quiet when they realize I can hear them. They both look guilty as I walk over.

“Sorry… It’s just really nice seeing him like this. He hasn’t ever brought a girl to set before. Even Britt and he really cared about her…” Holland is looking at me like I fell from the sky as a gift from god. I tell her that I was already on set when he met me, so it’s not really that big of a deal. “But he brought you back. And is pretty much showing you off to the whole cast and crew. Hell, from what I heard from Tyler about last night, he showed you off to all of LA.” I can’t help the blush that creeps up that back of my neck. “I’m going to assume that someone has already threatened you if you hurt him?” I laugh and nod. “Well, good. I’m going to give him a talking to so he knows that if he lets you go, he is an idiot.”

 

Dylan and I spend the night in his apartment, curled on the couch and trying not to think about the fact that I have to leave in the morning for school. From where my head is pillowed on his chest, I can feel the sighs he lets out every once in awhile. On one of the more exasperated sighs, I lift my head up and Dylan just gives me a sad smile that breaks my heart in half.

“Please don’t look at me like that. I’m going to start crying like any second and if you keep that look on your face I might not stop.” Dylan just pulls me tighter to him and kisses the top of my head. The back of my throat starts to tighten and my eyes start to itch. I take a few breaths in an attempt to fight off the tears just a little bit longer, but I fail miserably and tears start flowing down my face.

“God, this fucking sucks,” Dylan whispers into my hair, clinging to me. “Here I am, trying to get over some crazy ex, shutting out any girl that could possibly be interested, throwing myself into work, building walls. Then this amazingly awkward, mouthy, beautiful girl stumbles onto set and within minutes, she’s got a hold on me. Now I have to say goodbye before I’ve even had the change to spend time with her…”

“Who is this girl? She sounds pretty great.” Dylan lets out a sad laugh.

“She is.”

 

 

I’ve never dreaded being at an airport more in my life. I’ve also never had this hard of a goodbye sitting in the back of my head, waiting to absolutely crush me. Dylan won’t let go of me, always has a hand in mine or on my arm.

“When do your classes start up?” I can tell he is trying to make light of the situation, but we both know that it isn’t working.

“Wednesday. But I have to get my books and things tomorrow and unpack my stuff at my new apartment. I would stay longer, but I can’t…” He nods and tucks his hands in his pockets, starting to shut down. “Hey, it’s not like I’m going to Africa or something. You can call me when you have a break from filming. We can Skype when possible. I’ll visit you when I can since you seem pretty busy here. I’m not falling off the grid or disappearing forever. It’ll be okay.” I’m not sure which one of us I’m trying to convince.

“I know… But talking to you on the phone isn’t the same as being able to do this…” Dylan tugs me into a kiss that he tries to put every word he can’t find into. I break away and push my face into his neck, trying to muffle the awkward sobs that are coming from my throat. “Even though we met only two days ago, am I allowed to say that I am going to miss you?” My throat is constricted and won’t let words out, so I just nod and try to breath. “You should probably get going… Your flight boards in a half hour…”

“Fuck my flight…” Dylan laughs and tries to push me away, but I just hold on tighter. “I’ll quit school and stay here. I don’t need a degree. Most people with college degrees don’t get jobs these days anyway. So what’s the point?” Dylan finally gets me to let go and gives me a smile that is over half fake. “Call you when I land?” He nods and kisses me again. I have to force my feet to walk away from him. As I glance back, three girls run up to him and start asking for pictures and autographs. He just waves to me and blows me a kiss. One of the girls asks who I am.

“The most amazing person you’ll ever meet.”


	2. Make It Work.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan and Mary figure out how to make their relationship work when they live in different states. Cutsie, tooth rotting fluff... A fight or two as well. 
> 
> Still suck at summaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there darlings. I know i said like a month ago that i was going to update soon and I'm sorry it took me so long. I am on summer vacation and have been frantically looking for a job. But here it is. I have a little bit of part three written adn will try to update as soon as possible. I love you all. *smooches*

            The apartment is insanely cold and despite the fact that it is almost April, Mother Nature seems to think the ground should still be white. Curled under six blankets on my bed with a cup of tea sitting on my bedside table, I make an attempt to get at least some of my homework done before my fingers fall off.

            I try to type out some notes from a power point online, but my fingers barely skate across the keyboard. I huff and shove my laptop away from me. _This is ridiculous. I am never going to get this done if I freeze to death._ The doorbell rings and snaps me out of my shitty-apartment-hating haze. Tugging half of the blankets with me, I trudge to the door and crack it open.

            “Uh, Mary Jaxon?” A tall, thin delivery man is standing by my door with a vase of red roses and a cold-looking nose.

            “That’s me…” He nods and shoves the freezing glass vase into my hand and gives me a thick card. “Thank you!” I shout after him as he practically runs back to the heat of his truck. I don’t blame him. _What do we have here?_ After sniffing them, I set the flowers down on my kitchen counter and open the envelope to the card. It is made of thick, off-white cardstock and is embossed in silver loopy handwriting.

**We cordially invite**

**Ms. Mary N. Jaxon**

**To the MTV Awards**

**April 19, 2015**

**To be accompanied by**

**Mr. Dylan O’Brien**

**Please RSVP immediately.**

I sigh loudly and pull out my phone. _A little overboard, don’t you think Dylan?_ He answers on the second ring and pretends to act casual. He asks me about my classes, though he already knows exactly what I am taking and how I am doing in each. Dylan asks me about my apartment and I get sidetracked for a few minutes while I complain about freezing to death.

            “It is so goddamn cold in here. It can’t be more than sixty degrees in this place. That’s a hell of a lot warmer than it is outside, but for a house, that is cold.” Almost on cue, a shiver runs through my whole body and I go to crawl back into bed. “Wish you were here to keep me warm.”

            “Yeah, I wish I was, too. I can’t believe it’s been almost eight months since we saw each other last. It seems like it has been so much longer… God, I miss you.” Dylan sighs loudly and I remember the stupid invitation sitting on the kitchen counter next to the roses.

            “Was the embossed invitation really necessary, Dyl?” I hear him chuckle over the line and run my hand over my face. I honestly forget sometimes how much of a dork this boy is. He will call me to tell me that he learned a new beat on his drum set. Or to tell me how he forgot how much he loves the older Star Wars trilogy. Or about the sushi place he went to with Posey.

            “It actually wasn’t my idea…” Dylan sounds a little guilty, but all I can do is smile when I remember the look he probably has on his face. “Holland and Crystal made me do it. They said it would be romantic, or whatever. I was just going to call you and ask if you’d come with me, but they said that wasn’t good enough.” I can practically see him scratching at the back of his neck; what he always does when he is feeling awkward.

            “Well, let them know that it was very romantic, though a little overkill. Just the flowers would have been fine. They are really pretty and they smell great. So when should I plan on flying down there for this whole shindig?” Dylan chuckles again and tells me he’ll set up my flights and let me know. Something in me kicks at the thought of him paying for something again, but, by now, I’ve learned to just let it go. He hates when I don’t let him pay for things. I can hear his voice in my head, scolding me. _I’ve got the money to spare. You spend yours on tuition and important things like that._ The kid has even offered to pay my rent. I hit him upside the head for that one.

            “Alright. Should I try and find a dress here, or?” He laughs again, making it sound like a stupid question. “Right… LA shopping, I forgot. Well, I should probably go so I can try and get some homework done. Bye, babe.” Dylan says goodbye and the line goes dead. I burrow further into my nest of blankets and try not to smile too wide at the fact that I will see Dylan nearly two months earlier than planned.

 

            The doorbell rings and I figure someone has the wrong apartment number. With my toothbrush still sticking out of my mouth, I go to tell them that apartment 2C is down the hall and that the G on my door just looks suspiciously like a C. I don’t even bother to take the chain off when I open the door.

            “If you are looking for 2C, it’s down the…” Dylan is standing on my doorstep, with a small suitcase and a massive grin. He looks like he got away with something huge and knows he won’t get in trouble. “Holy shit!” The toothbrush falls out of my mouth as I slam the door shut and scramble to get the chain undone. The metal ball finally comes free and I am able to launch myself into Dylan’s waiting arms. “What in the hell are you doing here? I’m not supposed to fly down to LA until next week and I thought you had filming until Thursday…” He just shrugs and pulls me into a kiss.

            It’s as perfect as I remember; warm, wet, familiar, and all Dylan. By the time we pull apart, both of us are breathless and a little freezing from standing outside. I tug on the collar of his jacket and he stumbles over the threshold, pulling his suitcase with him.

            “I’ll show you the place in a minute…” I mutter, tugging on his shoulders until he is flush against me. “God I missed you…” I groan out as Dylan finds his way to that spot under my left ear. He makes an appreciative noise and continues his path down to my collar bone. “Uh, Dyl? You’re still wearing gloves and a hat and a scarf… Faaaaar too much clothing for my liking. Get rid of it. Now.” He gives me a wolfish grin and begins leaving bits of winter gear in a path down the only hallway I have. “Second door on the left…” I giggle as I follow the trail, adding my own clothing to the mess. Turning the corner into my room, I find Dylan hiding under the mass of blankets I call my bed. The top of his head is poking out, only a tuft of his hair showing. “Dylan? Did I lose you in there?” His laugh floats over to me and I can’t help but launch myself at the bed.

            “Owwwww…” The lump beneath me wiggles and curls into a tight ball. I dig through the blankets to find Dylan wincing. “You kneeled on me… A part of me I am rather attached to. I’d like to keep junior around and I think you might agree.” I roll my eyes and push at his shoulder until there is enough space for me to wriggle next to him in the cocoon he has made. “I missed you…” Dylan presses a kiss to my head and I feel my throat go tight. I do the only the thing I can think of to stop the tears and shove my face in his neck. “Are you crying?” I just shake my head against his skin, but I know he can feel the wetness. “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?”

            “I’m just really happy that you are here… I really hate being so far from you for so long…” His fingers smooth through my hair as his lips press against my forehead. “Jesus, I’m sorry… We haven’t seen each other in almost eight months and I am freaking ruining it all by crying… I am such a fucking girl…”

            “Well, I am glad you are a girl. If you were a guy, I don’t think this would work out the same…” I smack at his chest, but can’t fight the smile. “And don’t think you are ruining anything. I’m gonna go all cheesy on this, fair warning. Just being here with you is the best thing that has happened to me in eight months.  Even if it is cold as fuck here… How do you not get hypothermia?” I chuckle and press a kiss to Dylan’s lips, unable to help myself now that he is right here.

            “I think my internal temperature gauge is acclimated to it now. But I can see how it might be super terrible for someone who has lived in LA for any length of time. Now, where were we before I turned into a girl and ruined it all?” My hands slide up his chest, taking his thick sweater and t-shirt with them. I kiss my way from his collarbone to his hip and Dylan lets out a low groan. _Holy crap, I missed this… Eight months without sex is_ way _too long._ Dylan’s skin is perfectly unmarked and every ounce of me wants, needs to change that fact. “You still okay with me marking you up?” Dylan groans again and nods furiously.

            After I am satisfied with the reddish-purple bruises staring back at me from his abdomen, I move back up to claim his mouth. This kiss is nothing like the one at the door. This one is all teeth and tongue; each relearning the other after so long apart. It is still familiar, but the other kisses lacked the fire Dylan seems to have under his skin. My body is beginning to match his. Every inch of skin his fingertips brush against turn to lava and I feel like my skin is too tight.

            “I missed you…”

            “I know, Dylan. You said that like five times already,” I mutter into his neck and seal my lips over the chord of muscle below his ear. “Hmmm, I can totally give you a hickey here since you are with me for the next week…” He gets a terrified look on his face. “Don’t worry. My marks are for me only. I don’t need to prove to anyone that you belong to me. They already know.” Dylan just beams up at me and shakes his head, surging up to kiss me stupid. “You know you love it when I bite you…” Dylan nips at my lips, causing me to smile into the kiss and make the angle slightly awkward.

            “I love a lot of things about you…” Dylan gets this weird look on his face that I can’t read. He sits up and almost knocks heads with me as he struggles with the blankets to get up. Dylan pulls on his sweater and leaves the room. I am left staring at the doorway, wondering what the hell just happened.

            I wander into the kitchen after a few minutes and find Dylan sitting against one of the cupboards. Moving to sit in front of him, I tug at his wrists and try to get him to look at me. He won’t and just continues to hide behind the hands he has pulling at his hair.

            “Dyl… What’s going on? You gotta talk to me. You can’t just run off like that without telling me what’s wrong…” His amber eyes find mine and they look scared. “Hey, what is it?” Dylan shakes his head and gets up, moving away again. “Dylan. Why are you just running? What the hell is wrong with you?” My voice is starting to get louder and I know I should try to bring my temper back under control, but I can’t bring myself to care. He just gives me that scared look again and sinks onto my ragged couch. “Alright, if you aren’t going to talk to me, I’m just gonna go to bed. Let me know when your vocal chords decide to function again,” I snap, turning back to my bedroom.

            I sit in bed for a few minutes to see if he will follow me, but he doesn’t. Giving up on the hope of talking to him, I scoot under the blankets and try to fall asleep. The creaky floorboard right before my bedroom door gives away Dylan’s attempt to sneak in the room like nothing happened.

            “I know we don’t talk as much as we probably should, but you still need to communicate with me, Dylan. How am I supposed to know what you are thinking if you don’t tell me?” Dylan just shrugs and crosses his arms. “I’m done with this… This not talking thing. So you can sleep on the couch if you want, but you’re not sleeping here.” He makes some noise that sounds very close to _whatever_. Something in me snaps and I throw a pillow at the back of his head. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Who are you? The Dylan I fell for never shut up. He always told me what he was feeling or thinking. He always made sure that I knew what was going on. I don’t know where _my_  Dylan is, but you aren’t him…”

                        “I love you…” The admission is almost so quiet that I don’t catch it. Those amber eyes are pleading with me, but every word in my vocabulary seems to have vanished from my brain. “I have for awhile. I thought by telling you, I would freak you out. I know that we have been together for like ten months, but nine of those months were spent almost a thousand miles apart…” All I can do is stare at him. _Dylan just told me he loves me… Shouldn’t I be saying something? Oh god, what do I say?!_ “Please say something, Mary… You’re kinda freaking me out… I mean, if you don’t feel it, please don’t lie to me just because you think I want you to say it back. I mean, I do, but that shouldn’t be the only reason you say it back. I just, I needed you to know so that I could get it off my chest. So, there it is…” He scratches at the back of his neck and stares at the floor.

            “Hey, come here.” Dylan slowly wanders over to the bed and sits down on the edge. “I want you to know that I am not just saying this because of some stupid expectation, okay?” He nods. I grab his chin and force him to look at me. “Look at me, Dylan. I love you. I really do. I had never really thought about it, but now that I do, it’s so obvious, it hurts. And it is going to take a hell of a lot more than a simple ‘I love you’ to scare this girl away.” Dylan laughs and wraps his arms around me, his face at my neck. “I’m sorry about kind of blowing up on you… School has been really stressful lately and I can’t sleep. You know I get kinda crazy when I’m tired.” I feel him nod against my neck before he presses a kiss there.

            “Yeah, I know. And you know that I shut down when I get nervous. Hence the whole not talking thing… But you are right. We don’t talk as much as we should and our communication has been a little lacking as of late. Maybe we can work on that while I’m here this week?” We’ve crawled back under the covers and his arm is thrown over me. I’d forgotten how perfectly we fit against one another. How perfect the weight of his arm feels against my ribs. How perfect the warmth of his breath on the back of my neck is. How perfect just hearing him breathe softly is.

            “I missed you,” I slur, words heavy with sleep. Before I can even get the words out, Dylan lets out a soft snore and I have to fight the urge to giggle. Soon, I fall into the best night’s rest I’ve had in countless days.

 

 

            Dylan loves to take me shopping whenever I come to LA to visit him. Something about being able to buy whatever I could possibly want and know that I won’t complain. It makes him happy, so I’m happy. This is what has me sorting through a pile of tank tops in a small boutique in downtown LA when I would rather buy a similar-looking one for like a tenth of the price at H&M.

            Dylan is rifling through some t-shirts on the other side of the shop, in the men’s section. He glances at me and catches me starring. All I can do is smile and shrug innocently. Just as I am about to head over, a small group of girls come running up with phone cameras and random pieces of paper. As always, Dylan handles them smoothly and efficiently. Sometimes I wonder how someone who is so calm and collected in the eye of the public can be such a wonderful disaster around people who know him well. He flashes one of his ‘I’m hot and I fucking work it’ smiles and I can almost hear their little tween hearts breaking. One of the girls runs a hand up the length of his arm and Dylan doesn’t even flinch. He simply glances over at me and gives me his ‘save me’ eyes. _That’d be my cue._

            Cutting through the small crowd that had formed in the shop, I get to Dylan and plant a firm kiss on his lips. I control my laughter as half of the girls grumble under their breath while the other half coos.

            “Hey babe, you ready to go?” The posse of teenage girls all make noises of complaint, but Dylan flashes another smile and they all go quiet.

            “You ladies won’t mind if we head out, would you?” They all shake their heads vigorously. _This kid could lead an army of tween girls and take over the world…_ “Let’s get out of here…” he whispers in my ear, tugging me toward the door. “Besides, we aren’t going to find you a dress there.” _Oh… Right. A dress. That I have to wear. To the MTV Awards. As Dylan’s date… Someone help me…_ Dylan slips his fingers into mine and all of the negative thoughts fly out of my head. At least I’m here with him, right?

 

            Three hours and around forty dresses later, I am standing in front of a mirror in a royal blue, strapless, tea-length dress. I turn in a circle a few times and watch the soft ruffles shift and flow.

            “Pleeeaase tell me you like this one… It is by far one of my favorites. Plus, I’m hungry and tired. Shopping is hard.” Dylan is sprawled out in one of the shop chairs, his feet hanging over one arm rest while his head hangs over the other. “That has got to be like the four hundredth dress you have tried on. Are all girls this picky about dresses?” I just shoot him a glare and he shuts up.

            “I actually really like this one.” I don’t miss Dylan’s sigh of utter relief. “Silver accessories, hair up, simple necklace. Easy. And I can wear whatever underwear I want to. Bonus.” A snicker floats over from the chair. “What?”

            “Girls seriously think about what underwear they can wear with a dress? That factors into the decision?”

            “Oh absolutely. If I get some short, skin-tight dress, I’ll have to wear a seamless thong and sit like a lady all night. In this,” I run my fingers over the fabric surrounding me, “I can wear freaking granny panties and no one will be any the wiser.” I almost don’t catch the _I’ll be the wiser._ “Just for that, I’m not kissing you the rest of the time I’m here.” Dylan makes a face as I head back into the fitting room to change back into my jean shorts and cotton tank top.

 

            Of course, Dylan buys the dress and the accessories we find the next day. Then he takes me out to dinner at some stupidly expensive restaurant neither of us can pronounce the name of. Something in the back of my head tells me Dylan is trying to show off for me. I know that something is right. He should know by now that it doesn’t take expensive dresses and weirdly small portions of strange food to impress me. I tell him such in the cab ride back to his apartment.

            “We could watch Netflix in our sweatpants while we eat Domino’s pizza for all I care.” Dylan makes one of those faces I can’t read and I know I’ve said something wrong. “Okay, you’re making the face. What did I do?” He tries to tell me he wasn’t making a face but Dylan will never win that fight. “You have a face you make when I say something that you don’t like. Or something that bothers you in some way. Your nose scrunches up a little and you purse your lips.” He makes the face again. “That face! What did I say?”

            “I just… I like buying things for you and spending money on you. I want you to have the best and if I can give you that, I’m going to.” Dylan sounds offended and a little hurt. _Oh shit, damage control…_

            “Hey, don’t think I don’t appreciate all of it. Because I do. I really do. It is amazing and so incredibly sweet that you want to spend your hard-earned pay check on a date with me. All I am saying is that I wouldn’t mind being boring and middle class every once in a while. I like having you all to myself. I don’t want to share you with those snobby rich girls who always look at your ass like it’s what they want for dessert.” Dylan’s face flushes as the last comment, but smiles anyway. “I want you to know that every date doesn’t have to be so star-studded and A-List. It can be totally plain and D-List. I will still love you just the same.”

            “Are you guys going to get out or do I need to take a loop around the block while you finish up having your moment?” The cab driver sounds rather impatient and Dylan just flushes a deeper shade of red. He tosses a bill at the driver, probably much higher than the meter reads, and pulls me out of the car.

            “Care for some Netflix in our sweats and ice cream?” Dylan waggles his eyebrows in the way he always does when he is trying and failing to be funny.

            “Oh marry me, my sweet Romeo!” I swoon and place my arm over my forehead dramatically, leaning into his arms for support. Dylan just dips out of the way and I almost fall right on my ass. “Well that was rude…” Dylan says something about needed to be inside first or the ice cream will disappear before he gets any. I throw my shoe at him for that one.

 

            After the pint of Ben & Jerry’s is empty, I am finding it hard not to fall asleep on the couch. Dylan stifles a yawn and smacks his lips a few times. He announces it is time for bed and pulls me into his bedroom. While he brushes his teeth, I dig through his dresser to find my favorite t-shirt of his. So what if it is just a plain black shirt with the batman symbol in yellow across the chest? I’ll have you know it is incredibly soft and never fails to smell like Dylan.

            “Why do you even bother to bring pajamas if you are always going to sleep in that?” I shrug from my side of the bed. I’ve started calling it that because we always sleep on the same sides of the bed, regardless of whose apartment we are at. “It’s okay. I always wear it after you leave because it smells like you.” Dylan sounds slightly ashamed as he flops onto the bed on his stomach. “So… You get to go to your first award show tomorrow. Are you nervous?” He pillows his head on his forearms and raises his eyebrows.

            “Hmmm, am I nervous? Let’s see… I’m going to be in the eye of the public. Maybe on television… In  heals that could make me biff it at any moment in time when hundreds, if not thousands, of people are watching. Nope, not nervous at all. Not one bit.” Dylan laughs and moves to press a kiss to my forehead.

            “You’ll be fine. If they see half as much in you that I do, they will absolutely love you. And that dress makes you look even more extraordinary than you do every day.” Dylan runs his fingers through my hair and tucks a piece behind my ear.

            “Who knew you were such a sap?” He shoves my arm and rolls over. I groan and curl against his back, draping and arm over his torso. A small noise of content echoes from him as I press my lips to the back of his neck. “And liked being the little spoon…” This time, an indignant huff is what comes from him. He tells me to go to sleep and snuggles back into my arms. Soon, we both drift off to the sounds of our breath mingling.

 

 

This is starting to get ridiculous. An hour ago, I was tugged away from Dylan by a petite brunette at the salon. At the moment, I want to punch Dylan in the face for putting me through this whole ordeal. Getting your legs waxed fucking hurts, okay? The facial and massage were nice, but a little overboard. The feng shui or whatever crap they did to center my “chi” was just weird and kind of smelled bad. I greatly appreciate what Dylan obviously put into planning this whole day, but I am starting to feel like an idiot.

            “Would you like to get into your dress?” I’d completely forgotten about the award show before a few of the salon workers started to work on my nails and hair. “You are going to look very pretty in this. Are you going to the awards tonight?” I nod and let the small brunette help me into the dress.

            “Yes, I am. I’m actually kind of freaking out about it. I’ve never really done anything like this before and I am scared I’m going to make a fool of myself…” She pats my shoulder and gives me a sympathetic look. “And my boyfriend isn’t going to be of any help. He’s about as clumsy as I am… We are definitely going to screw at least one or two things up.”

            “Sweetheart, everyone messes up at award things. That is what makes them so much fun. I wouldn’t worry about messing up too much or you really will. If you don’t think about it and just focus on having fun with this boyfriend, it will all be just fine.” She gives me a warm smile and her words actually do lift at least a little of the weight that has been sitting on my chest since this morning. “Well, look at you.” I’m not really sure who is looking at me from the mirror, but I don’t think it’s me. My waist looks tiny and my butt looks like it is actually there. The blue of the fabric makes my eyes look like crystals. The simple braid keeps me from looking like I am going to a ball. A pat on my shoulder brings me back to reality. “Whoever he is, he won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you.” A slight flush colors my cheeks as I slip into my heels and thank the brunette for everything.

            Outside, Dylan is waiting at the door of his Audi, dressed in simple black jeans with a grey v-neck under his favorite leather jacket. My mouth waters instantly at the idea of being able to get him out of those clothes. The look I find on his face stops me in my tracks. He is wide-eyed and his mouth if open slightly. I feel my face go bright red under his gaze. My hands smooth over the fabric as I shift from foot to foot, unsure what to do with myself.

            “You... uh…” Dylan clears his throat and runs a hand through his already-disheveled hair. “You look amazing… Uh…” _I’ve stunned him speechless. That’s a first._

            “Hmmm. You don’t have anything to say. I must look either really good or really bad.” Dylan smiles and opens my door for me, kissing me as I slide in.

 

 

            The red carpet isn’t nearly as crazy as I had imagined, though after about a half hour my face starts to hurt from all of the smiling for pictures. Dylan’s arm is planted firmly around my waist and hasn’t moved since we got out of his car. He keeps pushing his nose into the small space behind my left ear and breathing deeply. At one moment, I swear I feel his hand shake where it is gripping my side. I tug him aside, where people are far enough away that the conversation will be private.

            “Hey, what’s going on with you? You seem like you are having a really hard time.” Dylan runs his fingers through his hair for the countless time tonight and moves to do it again before I catch his wrists. I kiss the inside of each one and bring them to frame my face. “Look at me. It’s going to be okay. I know it’s a lot of people, but we are doing just fine. Right?” Dylan has an almost far-off look in his eyes. “The worst part is almost over. Then we just get to sit in chairs and look pretty. Even if Teen Wolf wins something, they won’t make you talk. Nothing to be worried about. And I have a pretty good idea of what the after party is going to look like.” This brings Dylan back to me and he gives me a shy smile.

            “Sorry. This kind of stuff just makes me nervous.” I wrap my arms tightly around his waist and tuck my head under his chin. “I am so happy that you are here with me. Thank you for this.” Dylan pushes his face back into the space behind my ear. I’m starting to think that that is the place he goes to when he stresses out about something. But I let him because I know that he needs it sometimes. A much as I need him taking me into his arms and just holding me when I have a bad day.

            “Thank you for inviting me. I’m glad I can be here for you for this. Now, you okay to go inside?” Dylan nods and kisses me chastely before re-securing his arm around my waist.

 

            The show itself really isn’t that exciting. The first half is unexceptionally boring and I entertain myself with sending Dylan increasingly terrible text messages and watching him try to hide the blush that creeps over his features.

            **_Just so you know, I bought new underwear for this. I’d show you, but someone might be watching. – M_**

**_Would it be totally wrong if I said I REALLY want to lick you right now? – M_ **

**_Do you think I could get a hand down your pants without someone noticing and kicking us out? – M_ **

**_Still thinking about licking you… Just FYI. I’d probably start with your neck. – M_ **

**_That spot right above your collar bone that never fails to make you moan… - M_ **

            Dylan starts to fidget in his seat and I know my texts are taking his thoughts elsewhere. I hear Posey ask if he’s okay and stifle a giggle when he replies in a strangled whisper. Posey gives me a weird look, but I just tuck my head innocently against Dylan’s shoulder.

            “I hate you…” he mutters. I simply press a kiss to his cheek and pat his knee. Dylan gives me a look that has me thinking I am probably going to pay for what I just did. I can’t bring myself to care in the slightest.

 

            By the end of the show, Teen Wolf managed to pick up a few awards and I managed to make Dylan sweat. The two of us finally make it to his car and as soon as the door shuts, Dylan turns on me.

            “You are in so much trouble…” All I can do is shrug my shoulders and act innocent under his hungry gaze. “It’s a good thing this car is fast or we might have had to pull over. Hell, I still might have to…” I blush so hard that I feel it creep down the back of my neck. Yup, I’m totally going to pay for what I did… Still don’t care though. With the glint in Dylan’s eye, I feel like a little kid that is trying to fall asleep on Christmas Eve. I have no idea what is running through that brain of his, but I cannot wait to find out.

 

            Dylan makes it back to his apartment in record time. Part of me is surprised he doesn’t haul me over his shoulder like a cave man when we get out of the car. Instead, he keeps a cool outer shell and simply takes my hand, leading me to the elevator. _This is so the calm before the storm,_ I tell myself. Yet, I can’t help but think that the storm isn’t going to be a destructive one…

            The calm remains in place even after we enter his apartment. I was under the impression that he was going to jump me like a spider monkey as soon as the lock clicked, but he just goes to the kitchen. Dylan takes off his jacket and sets it on the back of a stool. He opens the fridge and rummages through it, coming away with a beer. Dylan pops the top and takes a swig, still completely ignoring me in the doorway. He moves to the small living room and kicks off his shoes. The TV is turned on and he puts his feet on the coffee table, obviously intent on making me sweat for what I did. Well, two can play at that game.

            I head to the bedroom and pull my suitcase from his closet. There are a few choice items I left packed for a situation just like this one. I tug out the navy blue lingerie and smile to myself. He’ll totally cave with the help of this.

            “Hey babe, are you gonna come to bed?” I lean against the wall next to the TV and choke back a laugh as Dylan almost inhales his beer. He reels everything back in, but not before I catch the sharp intake of breath. To his credit, he turns back to the TV and pretends to not even notice me. _Alright, he wants to play hard ball. Bring it on._ I slink over to the couch and settle myself on his lap. Dylan just leans and continues to watch TV around me. Dylan doesn’t know that I am aware of the erogenous zone he has right above his left collarbone. And I plan to mark him up until he caves and gives me the attention I am apparently craving.

            My lips seal over the spot and bite down hard. Dylan’s hips stutter before he reins his control back in. I trail my tongue up the tendon of his neck and tug at his earlobe with my teeth. I smile at the small strangled groan he lets out. _I’m so much better at this game._ I return to the spot above his collarbone that is now an angry pink.

            Satisfied with the purple mark staring back at me, I grin and rock my hips down. Dylan fidgets and I can tell that his resolve is about to snap. _Now to pull out the big guns._ Dragging my hands over his chest, I press a wet kiss to his lips and get up. Now that was definitely a whine I just heard. My plan seems to be working as I go back to the bedroom and change into his shirt. The TV goes silent and the grin that splits my face is one of pure evil. Little does Dylan know, he won’t be getting any tonight. Dylan comes into the bathroom, hands tucked in his pockets. I just flash him a smile and continue to brush my teeth.  Warm arms grip around my waist and a wet kiss is pressed behind my ear. _You do_ not _get off that easy._ I slip out of his grip and go to get in bed. Dylan seems to catch on to my plan and is at the door, blocking my path.

            “Are we really going to do this?”

            “Mmmmm, babe, you started it. I was just having a little fun because that thing was really boring. I’m sorry if I took it too far, but I thought you would think it was funny.” Dylan is getting to me with one of his frustrated faces. I hate those faces. I hate it when he’s mad at me. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I really didn’t mean to.” Dylan lets out a huff and turns back into the bedroom. He kicks off his jeans and tugs off his t-shirt, tossing them on the floor and climbing into bed. “We just had the best night ever and your show won awards. Everyone loved you. Do we really have to fight about this?” My cheeks are starting to burn as I feel anger swell up in my chest. I didn’t even do anything wrong. I just sent a few text messages that no one else saw. It was a harmless joke.

            “No, we don’t have to fight about this. Just say you’re sorry and it’ll be over.” That pushes me over the edge. I grab my duffle bag and my things out of the bathroom. I send a text to Holland and ask if I can come stay at her place.

            **_Sure girl. Everything okay with you and Dyl? –H_**

**_I don’t really want to talk about it right now. Thank you. –M_ **

**_Need me to come get you? –H_ **

**_No, I can take a cab. I’ll see you in a few. –M_ **

“Where are you going?” Dylan sits up and actually looks concerned for the first time tonight.

            “I’m gonna go stay at Holland’s tonight. It’s obvious that we need some time to cool off so we don’t kill each other. You need to figure out that I didn’t mean to embarrass or offend you with what I did. It was a simple joke and I am sorry if I took it too far. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, I leave Dylan looking stunned in his bed and duck out the door. I have to take the stairs so I don’t lose my nerve and go back to crawl in bed with Dylan.

 

            Through the five minute cab ride to Holland’s condo, all of the anger dissipates out of me and leaves me feeling empty, but heavy. As always, she greets me with a soft smile and a hug. She doesn’t ask me if I’m okay or if I want to talk about it. Holland simply grabs a package of Oreos from the back of her pantry and turns on Gossip Girl on Netflix.

            Three episodes later, it is three thirty in the morning and I feel like I am about to burst into tears. My skin feels too tight and my lungs don’t seem to be working properly. Holland smoothes a hand between my shoulders, but stays quiet. I manage to tell her what happened and she just lets out a small sigh when I am done.

            “You guys just aren’t used to spending this much time together. I know you talk a lot, but it is different than actually being with a person. No wonder you are driving each other a little crazy. I think it’s good that you are taking a night away. Things will be better in the morning. Trust me. If I know Dylan, which I am pretty sure I do, he’ll be here in the morning with breakfast and an apology for being the adorable idiot you love so much.” All I can do is hug Holland and let the tears roll down my face.

 

 

            The light from my phone wakes me up and it is still dark outside, though I feel like I’ve been asleep for hours. A squinted glance at my phone tells me it is only five fifteen.

            **_I’m sorry. –D_**

**_I can’t sleep because you aren’t here and I know you’re mad at me. –D_ **

**_Please come back. –D_ **

**_Dyl, it’s not even five thirty. I’ll text you when I wake up so we can get breakfast. –M_ **

**_And I’m sorry too. –M_ **

 

 

            Holland, of course, was right about Dylan bringing me breakfast even though I told him we could go out. He is standing pathetically on her front stoop with a bag of food in his hand when she calls me to the door. Holland says she is going to take a walk around the block and gives me a pat on the shoulder. As soon as the door shut, Dylan is wrapping his arms around me and saying sorry so many times the word loses meaning. I just run my fingers through his hair and let his words run their course.

            “I know. Me too… That was such a stupid fight. How terrible are we?” Dylan laughs into my hair and kisses my forehead. “Can we please bring breakfast back to your place? I’m not sure how long I can hold out and I will not have Holland pissed at me for having sex in her kitchen.” He tries to hide his blush in my neck, but it doesn’t work.

            “Oh good. I told you that you guys would work it out. Piece of cake. Now go back to Dylan’s so you can have make-up sex. Get out.” Holland waves her hand dismissively and begins pulling out things for her own breakfast. Both of our faces are beet red as I grab my bag and mutter a thank you.

 

 

              Neither of us is up to any make-up sex. We end up sitting on his kitchen floor, eating ice cream. Dylan has his head in my lap and my fingers are twisting through his hair. His eyes are closed and I am beginning to think that he has fallen asleep.

            “Dyl… You still awake?” He grumbles into where his face is pushed into my hip. “Did you sleep last night?” I feel him shake his head and a dull pain shoots through my chest. I should feel guilty that I slept soundly while he was lying awake, staring at the ceiling… right? “Come on… We are gonna go take a nap so that you won’t be mister grumpy pants all night.” Dylan makes another noise, but moves to get up and head to his bed.

 

            Curled into his chest, the dull pain comes back and my brain doesn’t know how to interpret it. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I have to leave Dylan again. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that that was one of the worst fights we’ve had, despite the fact that it was over something trivial. Maybe I have no idea why my chest is tightening up like I’ve done something wrong and I don’t know how to tell Dylan. But the thing is… I haven’t done a thing.

            “Hey, are you okay?” Dylan runs his fingers through my hair and gives me a small smile.

            “I have no idea. I feel like there is something sitting on my chest and I don’t know how to make it go away. It’s like I have some secret, but I have nothing to hide. So I don’t know how to make it better.” Dylan just gives me a sympathetic look and kisses my forehead.

            “I’m going to miss you, too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are boxes stacked all over the front room of my apartment. Why is it that you never really realize how much crap you have until you have to fit it all into a finite number of boxes? Checking my phone, I sigh loudly. The stupid movers were supposed to be here a half hour ago.   
> Sitting in one of the boxes labeled “Office” sits a Bachelor’s Degree in Microbiology that I earned only a few days ago. A loud knock snaps me out of the nostalgic college state and the movers wander in the open front door. My mouth opens to scold them about being late, but my phone starts to buzz in my pocket.  
> “Hello?”  
> “Hey, babe. How’s it going?” Dylan stifles a yawn and slurs his words through it.  
> “The movers just got here. They were late…” I glare at one of the movers and he just shrugs, pushing a box onto a hand truck. “My flight is tomorrow morning at 8:15. I should land around 11:30 11:45. Be there to pick me up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you who have stuck through this with me. I know it has taken me forever to get this last part written, but i got really busy with my summer job and transferring colleges.
> 
> But here it is. I hope you guys are happy with the way i ended things. Let me know if anything sticks out that shouldbe changed.

There are boxes stacked all over the front room of my apartment. Why is it that you never really realize how much crap you have until you have to fit it all into a finite number of boxes? Checking my phone, I sigh loudly. The stupid movers were supposed to be here a half hour ago.

Sitting in one of the boxes labeled “Office” sits a Bachelor’s Degree in Microbiology that I earned only a few days ago. A loud knock snaps me out of the nostalgic college state and the movers wander in the open front door. My mouth opens to scold them about being late, but my phone starts to buzz in my pocket.

“Hello?”

“Hey, babe. How’s it going?” Dylan stifles a yawn and slurs his words through it.

“The movers just got here. They were late…” I glare at one of the movers and he just shrugs, pushing a box onto a hand truck. “My flight is tomorrow morning at 8:15. I should land around 11:30 11:45. Be there to pick me up?” He makes a noise of affirmation. “Hey, are you okay? You sound like you’re having a rough day.”

“Filming didn’t go well today. I just couldn’t get a handle on what I was doing. Maybe I am just stressing about you getting here. I just miss you and haven’t been sleeping well. This is probably going to sound really cheesy, but I never sleep well when you aren’t here. Luckily I have learned to function pretty well on low amounts of sleep. So, it’s not a big deal…” He trails off into another yawn and falls quiet.

“I miss you, too. You should try to take a nap or something. Drink some tea. I know that always helps you when you’re stressed. I’ll let you know when I get to the airport tomorrow and when I land. Love you, Dylan. See you soon.” I can feel my chest tighten the way it does every time I have to say goodbye to Dylan. I know that I will see him tomorrow, but it is still incredibly hard. I hear him sigh across the line and have to close my eyes to fight the tears that threaten to spill.

“I love you, too, Mary. See you tomorrow. Bye.” The line disconnects and one of the movers gives me a look of sympathy.

“Is that why you’re moving? To go live with whoever that was?” He smiles at me and lifts a box.

“Yeah. I am flying down to LA tomorrow morning and my stuff should be there by tomorrow afternoon. We’ve been together for three years, but we’ve always lived far apart. I’m excited to actually have the time to be with him.” The mover gives me a knowing smile and takes the box outside. I run my fingers through my hair and try to get the weight sitting on my chest to go away.

 

Before I go to sleep, I take two Benadryl, hoping it will knock me out and allow me to get some sleep. It doesn’t. I lay away groggy for the entire night, trying to figure out a way to make myself get even a little bit of rest. I even try to count sheep, but they don’t get me any closer to unconsciousness than the Benadryl.

Around two thirty, my phone starts buzzing and I know who will be on the other end when I pick up. I groan and snatch it up, pressing the accept button.

“Hey, babe. Can’t sleep either?” He makes an affirmative noise that makes it sound like he has his face stuffed into a pillow. “How long have you been trying to sleep?” Dylan just grumbles again. He sounds like he is on the verge of sleep or just woke up. “Hey, guess where I am going to be in less than ten hours? I’m going to be right next to you. I’ll be able to kiss you and hug you. I’ll be able to run my fingers through your hair and cuddle the crap out of you like I always want to do.” A soft chuckle floats over the line.

“I miss you, too. I can’t wait to see you.” His voice is rough and it’s obvious he is almost asleep.

“Dylan, go to sleep. The faster you fall asleep, the faster you will get to see me. Go to sleep, babe. I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you.” He murmurs a reply and the line goes dead. I sigh and let my phone fall onto the floor next to my mattress. _Let the ceiling-staring commence._ After another hour, I fall into a restless sleep, only to wake up again 45 minutes later. _This is getting ridiculous._ I sit up and scrub my hands over my face and groan loudly.

Wandering into the kitchen, I stare into my empty fridge for five minutes too long; before I slam it shut and groan again. _Right, moving equals empty everything._ The next few minutes bring me to various places within my apartment, little blips of memories coming back.

 

_Something smells utterly amazing as I swing open my front door, dropping my back pack near a chair as I enter the kitchen. Dylan is standing at the small stove, stirring a pot of something. Not being able to resist the urge to wrap myself around him, I kiss the back of his neck._

_“Try this. It’s my mom’s recipe, but I changed some stuff, so I am not sure if it is going to turn out or not.” He holds out the spoon and I try whatever red sauce covers it. The simple tomato sauce is some of the best I’ve ever had. A smile splits across my face. “Good?” Dylan takes on a proud smile that he only gets when he does something that makes me happy._

_“It’s great.”_

I run my fingers over the stovetop, stuck in the memory. I move to where the TV used to be and sprawl out on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

 

_“I swear to god, if you keep doing that, I will no longer be responsible for your safety.” Dylan continues to dig his fingers into my sides, making me want to laugh or cry. “STOP IT.” He just laughs and sits on my hips as I try to roll away. My hands flail out as his hands dig into my ribcage again, my fist clipping his nose and sending him to the floor. “Dylan? Are you okay?” He pulls his hand away from his face and there is a streak of blood running from his nose._

_“Uh, I guess you were right about the safety thing…” Dylan smiles and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can you grab me an ice pack?” I scramble to the freezer as he goes to the kitchen sink, running a rag under the faucet._

_“Here… Let me.” I take the rag from his hand and clean the blood from his face. Running my fingers through his hair, I apologize, but he just laughs. “I don’t think it’s broken or anything. Just a bloody nose. Oh my god, I can’t believe I gave you a bloody nose… That’ll teach you not to tickle me anymore.” I try to give him a stern look, but I don’t think it comes off as scolding as I would like it to. The bleeding finally stops and when I press the ice pack to his nose, he flinches away. “Sorry…”_

_“It’s my fault. I should have listened to you. A little pain as punishment, maybe a bruise. I’ll say I got in a fight.”_

_“With what? A baby penguin? Because that’s about all you could win a fight against.” He looks really offended, but the smile stays in his eyes and I know Dylan is trying not to laugh. “As much as you’d like to be, you’re not very threatening. You are just one of those people that are sweet to their core. And it shows.”_

_“Now you just sound like a cliché Hallmark card,” he teases. I punch his shoulder and he whines about it. “I ruined a moment, didn’t I?” I just nod. Dylan presses his lips against mine and a breath hisses through his teeth when our noses bump._

My brain takes me to the hallway next. I trail my fingers down the wall as I sink to the floor.

 

_Waking up from a violent shiver that runs through me, I notice the other side of the bed is empty, but still warm. A small noise travels from the hall and it sounds like someone sniffling. I get up and grab a blanket, going to search out whatever is making the noise._

_Dylan is sitting on the floor, with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around them. Now I know the noise is coming from him and my brain freezes._ What the hell is going on? _Just as I am about to speak, Dylan glances up at me and holds out his arms. I gratefully sink down next to him, glad I am not the reason he is so upset. I don’t pry, having learned it will only make him shut down further._

_“Sorry if I woke you…” Dylan mumbles into my hair after a few minutes. I want to punch him, but I just push myself closer to him instead. “I, uh, got a call from my mom… She… She said that one of my cousins got in a car accident…” Dylan takes in a shaky breath and pushes his face into his spot behind my ear. “They… They did everything they could… But, he…” His voice cracks and fades out. Something heavy twists through my chest at hearing how broken Dylan sounds. I don’t push him further, knowing fully what the end of the sentence entails._

_“I’m not going to apologize because I know that’s not going to help. But I will sit here as long as you need me to. Actually, I am going to go make some tea. Why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll be back in a few?” He nods, but doesn’t make any effort to move or get up. We sit for a few more minutes until his breathing is back to normal. I, then, pull him up and wrap my arms around him, tangling my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Dylan ends up tugging me back to bed with him, curling up in a ball under the covers._

_Coming back with two cups of tea, I nudge him out of the way and sink onto the bed. Dylan just shifts slightly and puts his head in my lap. The only thing I can do is sip my tea and run my fingers through his hair as he continues to sniffle and shake slightly. Eventually his breathing evens out and the sniffling stops. I set my tea on the nightstand next to his untouched cup. After I push him enough to get him on his side of the bed, I curl around him and tuck my nose against the nape of his neck. Dylan never lets me be the big spoon, but I know that he would let me if he was awake._

Flopping back on my mattress, I resume the ceiling-staring and try not to think about everything I am going to be leaving behind when I move to LA. Yes, I’ll be with Dylan on a daily basis for the first time since we started dating, but Montana has been my home for the last four years.

At some point, the sun begins to crawl through the window, shining over the floor of my empty room. I huff and go to brush my teeth and shove the rest of my toiletries into my suitcase. A glance at my phone tells me that I still have two hours until the taxi to the airport gets to my apartment. _I am going to die if time doesn’t start going faster. Jesus Christ._  After stuffing my pjs into my bag, I walk down the street and spend an hour at the coffee shop on my laptop. At some point, a guy with dark hair and glasses sits across from me.

“So, what’s got you looking so down?” He flashes me a smile and tucks his hand innocently under his chin.

“I’m not down, just really tired. I’m leaving for LA in like three hours to move in with my boyfriend.” He doesn’t look disappointed like I expected him to. Only understanding. The guy pats my arm.

“Let me guess, you have been going to school while he lives there and this is the first time you will be with each other consistently?” I just nod and smile. “And you didn’t sleep at all last night, did you?”

“Exactly.” He nods and pats my arm again. He gives me an expectant look and I can tell that he wants more than that. “I guess I am just really stressed out about the whole thing… We have never spent more than two weeks with each other for the three and a half years we’ve been together. How do I know that it is going to work out?”

“You don’t. You just have to have faith in the fact that if something goes wrong, you will work it out. And I think it will. I had the exact same thing happen to me. I met him in Chicago six years ago and we spent the first four years flying back and forth. But he moved here and things have been great since then. So I know how you feel.” We continue to talk about his boyfriend and I talk about Dylan for awhile. The guy, Henry, freaks out a little about the fact that I am dating a movie star, but I just shrug it off.

“Do you want me to call him, so you can talk to him?” I swear Henry’s face lights up like a little kid on Christmas morning. “Give me a second.” I dial Dylan and he picks up on the third ring. “Hey babe. I need a favor. A new friend of mine is a really big fan of yours and he wants to say hi.” Dylan gives a fond sigh and tells me to hand over the phone. Henry plays it cool and hands me back the phone. “I’m really excited to see you. Love you, Dyl.” Henry almost turns into a puddle at that. “I should probably get going. Can’t be late to the airport.”

“It will be okay, sweetheart. I promise.” Henry stands up and gives me a hug, then grabs my phone and puts his number in. “Let me know if you are ever back here.” He kisses me on the cheek and goes back to sipping his coffee. I send him a text with my name as I walk out the door, smiling to myself.

 

 

The flight is much more stressful than I would have liked it to be. Flying doesn’t bother me, usually. I am able to fall asleep most of the time, but today, it seems like every higher being is trying to work against me. There is a screaming baby four rows in front of me, an annoying toddler who keeps kicking my seat behind me, and I get stuck next to a guy who could easily take up two seats, but remains in only one. I am thankful for my window seat and noise-cancelling headphones. Half way through the three hour flight, the plane hits some hard turbulence and the entire cabin shakes. Cups are knocked over and one guy walking back from the bathroom almost ends up on the floor. I have to grip the armrests and force myself to breathe through my nose to fight off the panic I feel rising in my chest.

Landing at the LA airport is a relief in more ways than I care to count. I shove my way off the plane, impatient with the people who seem to have nowhere to go. Ever. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to sprint when I finally get to the gate. I know Dylan is waiting for me and I may or may not walk too fast and smack into a lot of other people in the crowded terminal.

Arriving at the baggage claim, I try to split my attention evenly between looking for my suitcase and trying to find Dylan in the masses of people. My suitcase is the first to catch my attention. I move to grab it but someone gets to it first. It takes me a second, but I recognize the hands after a bit.

The only way to explain the embrace is to call it a tackle. I throw my arms around Dylan’s neck and kiss him as hard as I can. Luckily, he takes all of my weight and we don’t go crashing to the floor. The only reason we break apart is because humans need oxygen to survive. Dylan immediately goes to push his face into my neck, going straight to his spot behind my ear. The back of my throat starts to get tight and scratchy, but I just hold onto Dylan tighter.

“I don’t know of you understand how much I missed you…” I mumble into his hair. Dylan huffs a laugh against my neck and pulls back to just look at me. “Okay, so maybe you do. And if you are thinking about what I am thinking about, we should probably get going before we get arrested for public indecency.” His ears turn pink and it is all I can do to just pull him back to me and kiss the life out of him one more time.

 

Stumbling into his apartment, I would have hit the ground were it not for Dylan’s tight grip around my waist. We are both giggling uncontrollably and I am starting to feel like a stupid teenager who is sleeping with her boyfriend for the first time. But there aren’t any nerves, only excitement. It’s awkward and wonderful and uncoordinated and fucking awesome. We fight over whose clothes come off and eventually make it to his… our bed. Dylan tries to tug me down with him, but I just push him down and watch as he flops against the unmade sheets. Taking a second to just enjoy the fact that he is in front of me, I stare my fill until he starts getting impatient. Dylan sits up and wraps his arms around me, tight enough that I couldn’t get away even if I wanted to.

“Someone’s feeling pushy…” Dylan gets a dark look in his eye and even though I am downright exhausted from travelling and not sleeping last night, I know it is going to be a long night.

The first time around is rushed and lacking finesse. There is a lot of fumbling and clashing teeth. It’s rough and fast, not pretty in any way. But it is what both of us need so badly after going the last six months without seeing each other. The second time around is full of teasing and is so drawn out that we both feel like exploding by the end. The third time, though? Slow, sweet, perfect. All light touches and kisses, staring into each other’s eyes and smiling like idiots.

 

The sheets are absolutely wrecked and the whole room reeks of sex. Dylan’s morning breath is ghosting over my shoulder while his arm is wrapped tightly around my waist. My back is all but glued to his chest from the mess we made and all the sweat from hours of reunion sex. Grimacing at the stickiness between us, I roll over to look at my boyfriend. A smile splits my face at the open-mouthed, messy-haired dork that is sleeping wrapped around me.

“Hey… Babe…” I push at his chest and try to get the bear to wake up. “Dylan… I’m hungry… Make me breakfast. Please?” Some sort of annoyed groan comes out of his chest and all I can do is roll my eyes. When I slip out of his grip, he just smacks his lips, rolls over, and falls back into dreamland. “Thanks for the welcome, jerk.” Stealing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs from his dresser and the Batman shirt from his closet, I wander into the kitchen in search of sustenance. Dylan’s fridge is almost empty, as well as his pantry. “So, that’s why he’s so skinny…” I’m thankful that he at least has enough eggs to make breakfast for the both of us. I soon find myself dancing around the kitchen, humming quietly, when a cleared throat scares the life out of me. “What the hell, Dylan!?” He has a stupid smirk on his face and I’m tempted to smack it off with the spatula in my hand. “You can make your own eggs. And why are you looking at me like that?”

“I didn’t know if you’d remember the shirt.” Dylan tucks his head and scratches at the back of his neck, obviously embarrassed. “You look good in my stuff.” Leave it to Dylan to be awkward about calling me beautiful even after three years of being together. I roll my eyes and tip my head toward the pan of eggs on the stove. “So much for cooking my own eggs, huh?” He just kisses me and sits at the bar with a plate and cup of coffee. “These are good, hun.” Something about the new nickname makes me blush furiously. Dylan takes notice and raises an eyebrow.

“You’ve never called me that before. Guess I’m just not used to it. But then again, I guess I’m not used to waking up with you or making you breakfast. Is it weird that we’ve been together for three years and don’t really know what it’s like to be domestic?” Dylan just shrugs and goes back to eating his eggs. “What’s your schedule today?” Dylan fills me in on the publicity he has lined up for his newest movie. He asks what I’ve got planned for the day. “I’ve got a date with Holland to get lunch at one at some restaurant I can’t pronounce. And then I’ll probably just go exploring. I still don’t know LA very well.” Dylan tells me not to get lost and gives me another kiss before heading to take a shower. A small twang of guilt hits me in the stomach as I realize I didn’t tell him about the interview I have at a genetic research firm at eleven.

 

 

Things in LA are smooth and easy. Maybe a little too easy. I get offered the job at the research firm before I even get in a cab. Dylan starts to travel more for hyping up his new movie. I figured once I moved to LA, I would get to fall asleep with my boyfriend more often than not. I quickly figure out that I thought wrong. Between travelling, late nights filming, and A-list parties, I see Dylan only marginally more than I did when I lived a thousand miles away.

One night, after falling into bed at two in the morning and smelling like whiskey, Dylan tries to wrap himself around me. Something compels me to squirm away and get out of bed. I leave the room and curl up on the couch. Within a few minutes, Dylan’s snores float from our bedroom. I’m not sure what clicks, but I beginning debating if I am as happy as I thought I would be. I have my dream job. I have a boyfriend that I love with all of my heart. Then the thought occurs to me. _Is loving someone this much enough to be happy?_ _Maybe it takes more than that…_ Every feeling of abandonment, betrayal, and anger comes flowing out until I am shaking with the effort of not screaming.

I leave for work when Dylan is still passed out in bed with his jeans and sweaty t-shirt on. A coworker notices my sour mood and asks if I want to get drinks after work. I don’t go just because I don’t want to face Dylan. I have other reasons for going. Really, I do. I just can’t think of any right now… The two margaritas take my mind off of what is waiting at the apartment until my key is in the door. The thought crosses my mind that I might not be sober enough for this conversation. My brain helpfully supplies that it’s possible I might not be _drunk_ enough. Dylan is waiting for me on the couch. He has a stern look on his face and I’m tempted to snark about hangovers, but I keep my mouth shut.

“Alright, rock star, what?” I sit on the other end of the couch, carefully creating distance between myself and his distracting touch.

“Why did you sleep on the couch last night?”

“Wow, I’m surprised you were even sober and conscious enough to remember that,” slips out of my mouth before I can stop it. Dylan glares at me and asks me if I am upset about something. “Good detective skills there, Sherlock. Yes, I’m upset. I never know when you are going to be home, who you are going to be with, what you are going to be doing. I don’t want to be that clingy girlfriend, but I do want to know that you are safe. I fucking hate coming home to the empty apartment. Just once, could you leave a goddamn note? Or send me a text? Would it really take that much time out of your star-studded life to text your girlfriend so she knows you are okay?”

“You know that I’m just working on publicity for my new stuff and…”

“Okay, no. No, you aren’t just doing that. You are partying and getting drunk and acting like a stupid college student. Not a professional trying to advertise his work. You are twenty five, Dylan. I can’t tell you how to live, but I can sure as hell give my opinion. I’m not sure where the Dylan went that used to take me to expensive restaurants and to the mall just so he could show me off, but whoever fell into bed last night? That definitely was not him. I want _my_ Dylan back. The one that asked me about my classes and about the weather and actually cared that I was standing right in front of him.” Dylan runs a hand through his hair and tugs at it.

“Can we talk about this when I am not so hung over?”

“You are a fucking piece of work, you know that? I’m sitting here, sick of being second to your career and all you can say is ‘I’m too hung over to talk to you about this’? I have always put you first, above anything else. You know that. How many extra projects have I sacrificed at work so that I could be home to see you when you got home from a trip? Because I’ve lost count. And how many times have you given up a party so you could come with me to a presentation of my research? Oh that’s right. It hasn’t happened yet.” Standing and walking to the bedroom, I consider the fact that leaving might not be the best solution. Then I look at Dylan, who has laid down on the couch and looks about ready to fall back asleep. “You can’t be fucking serious…” I shove enough stuff in a bag to last me a week and start toward the door.

“Okay, just walk away, like you always do,” Dylan mumbles from the couch.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that any time shit gets difficult, you run. You leave and avoid confrontation. You’re a coward when it comes to emotional shit. You’ve always been that way.” Dylan has the look in his eyes that tells me he is going for the kill. “So, you know what? Leave. Run. Avoid all of it. Because if you walk out that door, expect to find your stuff in boxes in the lobby and the locks changed.”

“You’re giving me an ultimatum? Are you twelve?” Dylan shrugs and slings his arms over the back of the couch. “You are such an asshole. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.  If someone gets in your way, you will drop them like a sack of potatoes. Guess I’m the last sack to be dropped.” I turn toward the door.

“I should tell you something before you leave. This whole thing started out as a publicity stunt. Yeah, I thought you were cute and would probably be a good fuck, but relationship material? Nah, you were just a piece of ass that was so star-struck you believed me when I said I didn’t do that kind of stuff. I couldn’t count on my fingers and toes how many fans I’ve been with. You were just like the rest of them. It just so happened my being with you jumped up ratings, so my publicity team wanted to keep you.” Dylan gets a smug look on his face, knowing he is hitting a nerve with one of my biggest insecurities.

“Fuck you. Holland will come get the rest of my stuff.”

 

I don’t have a panic attack in the back of the cab. I don’t yell at the cabby to pull over so I can throw up in a nearby trash can. I don’t cry so hard I think I might have popped a blood vessel or two. I don’t go completely numb by the time I reach the airport.

I shoot an email to my boss that I am taking some personal time and will let him know when I get back into town. My hands shake as I sit at the gate, waiting the hour before my flight boards. My phone sits on my knee, staring at me, but remaining blank. No calls, no texts, no emails. Nothing.  If my tear ducts weren’t completely dried up, I would feel tears falling down my face. After ten minutes of shaking and trying not to have another panic attack, I unlock my phone and flip through my contacts.

“Hey girl! How’s LA treating you?” The sound of Henry on the other line soothes something in me, but also makes me feel like I am about to snap all over again. “Mary? What’s wrong?” While running through the fight with Dylan, Henry remains silent.

“I have no idea what I am going to do… I have nowhere to go… I basically quit my job twenty minutes ago. I’m sitting in the airport waiting for a flight back to Bozeman, and not Oregon, not home. I have no idea why…” Henry makes a sympathetic noise.

“Sweetheart, I will be at the airport when you land. I’ll call my boyfriend and let him know what’s up. He’ll be perfectly fine with you staying with us for a few days.” I mutter a thank you and tell him I will see him in a few hours. Next on my list of people to call is Holland.

“Uh hi, Hol… So, I need you to go get my stuff from Dylan’s…” There is silence on the other end and I begin to think she hung up on me before an exasperated sigh comes through. I cringe and wait for the onslaught.

“How many fucking times are you two going to do this? How many times are you going to fight and run and then realize that you are crazy about each other? Because I think that you are both idiots. I love you both, but you are stupid. Where are you right now?” Part of me doesn’t want to tell her that I am twenty minutes away from getting on a plane to Montana. The other part knows she will know if I lie to her. “Wow, you took running to a new level this time, Mary…” An involuntary hurt noise escapes my throat. “Sorry… Can I come get you?” I tell her no.

“I need to go back. I need to clear my head and figure out what I am going to do now.” Holland lets me know she doesn’t think it is a good idea, but that she loves me no matter what. “Love you, too, Hol. I’ll let you know where to send my stuff.”

 

 

True to his word, Henry is standing by the baggage claim in Bozeman, despite the fact that it is almost two in the morning, when I come down the escalator. He gives me a sad smile and wraps me in a hug. Tears make the back of my throat itch, but I decided on the plane that I am done crying, so I swallow them back.  Henry and his partner take me to their apartment and give me a cup of tea.

“You don’t have to treat me like I am going to break. I already have. I’ve already completely lost it and I am past that point. So you can talk to me, I’m not going to snap.” They exchange a glance and his partner leaves the room. “I’m getting a talking to, aren’t I?” Henry just smiles and reaches to set my tea on the coffee table.

“Look, I know you think that Dylan was the one that was out of line. And don’t get me wrong, he said some shit that makes him look like a total dick. But I think the blame is shared. I think that you weren’t used to having to communicate every day. You and Dylan used to talking once a day, but not having to know where the other person was at all times. So, I believe that both of you are at fault and both of you said a lot of things you didn’t mean. Do I think it was a good idea for you to flee the state? No. But do I think you two need some space from one another? Yes.” It hurts knowing the Henry thinks I am as much at fault as Dylan is. The wounds are fresh and I still want to rip Dylan’s throat out, but Henry has a point.

“I’m going to try and call him. I doubt that he will pick up, but it’s worth a try. Actually, can I use your phone? He is more likely to pick up if he doesn’t know the number.” Henry pats my shoulder and leaves the room. My hand doesn’t shake as I pull up Dylan’s number. It doesn’t. It rings three times and I begin to think that he won’t answer.

“This is Dylan.” My mouth goes dry at the sound of his voice. “Hello?”

“Hi Dyl… Please don’t hang up… I know I am the last person you want to talk to right now, but I think we need to. I have cooled down a lot since last night and thought about it a lot.” I take a deep breath after rushing all of the words in a few seconds. To my relief, Dylan remains on the line after figuring out it’s me. “I’ve talked to Henry and Holland about it… I think the problem is that we just weren’t used to communicating like we needed to when living together. We were used to living a thousand miles away and minimal communication cutting it. We can point fingers and say one of us is to blame, but we both are.”

“Yeah.” _Is that seriously all you are going to say right now? Ugh, asshole. No, don’t start anything new._ “Uh, where are you? Can we talk this out in person? It doesn’t feel like a phone conversation…”

“About that…. I kind of flew back to Montana this morning…” I cringe and wait for him to tell me that I was running like I always do.

“Hmmm. Hey, I have an idea.” I make a noise, wondering what is going through that kid’s head. “Come back to LA. And we will start over. Put our past behind us. Start over as a new friendship and see where it goes.”

“That actually sounds pretty damn great. We didn’t get to actually date the first time around. So, let’s start over. Sound like a plan?” Dylan chuckles and my heart clenches painfully at the sound. “It’s a date.” He laughs again.

“That it is. I’ll meet you at Spago, seven o’clock, Friday night?” I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face. After agreeing to the date, I have to choke down the ‘I love you’ that threatens to spill over my lips as we hang up. “I’ll see you on Friday, then. Goodnight, Mary. I lov… Uh, night…” The line goes dead quickly and I flop back onto the couch as Henry walks back into the room.

“I didn’t hear any yelling and you are smiling like a loon. I’m going to assume it went well?”

“Yeah, I’m going to go back to LA. We are going on a date on Friday night. We are going to start over and see what happens. Him and I both think the reason we failed the first time around is because we jumped in so quickly and I left, not giving us time to learn each other and how to communicate.” Henry smiles brightly and tackles me into the couch, both of us laughing. “It was really hard not to say I love you at the end… But I think this whole starting over thing is a good idea.”

“I’ll get your bags…” A hint of sadness comes through Henry’s tone.

“Well, I have like two days before I have to be back in LA. Don’t be so quick to kick me out.” Henry and I end up snuggled on the couch, watching old rom-coms until we pass out.

 

 

Getting into the cab, I ring my hands in an effort to get them to stop shaking. _Why are you so nervous? This shouldn’t be a good deal._ I take a few deep breaths and try to control my heart that is threatening to pound right out of my chest.

“First date?” The cabby gives me a sympathetic look in the rearview mirror.

“Of sorts…”

“Well, and don’t take this as some creepy cabby trying to hit on you, but you look great. I’m sure he’ll be head over heels before you even sit down.” I tell him thank you as we pull up to the front of the restaurant. He gives me another encouraging nod and tells me to knock em’ dead. The hostess smiles brightly at me and moves to take me to the table. It’s small and in the back corner, with low light. Dylan is flipping through the menu as we walk up. He nearly trips as he rushes to pull out my chair for me, causing me to blush furiously.

“Uh, hi… You look great.” Dylan scratches at the back of his neck and it takes a lot of self-control not to leap across the table and kiss the embarrassed smile off his lips. “Okay, well, I am an actor. Have been for about five years. What do you do?” I roll my eyes at him.

“I am actually a researcher. I work for a genetics company here in north LA. I got my masters in Microbiology from Montana State.” He smiles that proud smile that I haven’t seen in months.

 

The date goes well. We talk about our families and where we went to high school. What we do when we have free time and our favorite movies. Before we know it, three hours have gone by.

“I actually think the restaurant closed like a half hour ago, so we should probably wrap this up…” Dylan nods and takes care of the check.

“Do you mind if I walk you back to your place?” Dylan looks hopeful with his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks. _I bet your ass looks fucking great in those…_ “I mean, I’m sorry… That was forward…”

“Hey it’s okay. I am actually staying with Holland right now, so maybe I could walk you home? You live close by?” Dylan’s eyes sparkle at my humoring him and he bites his lip as his hand slips into mine. I let our fingers interlock and have to bite the inside of my cheek to hide the giant smile. “Am I allowed to ask you how you’ve been the past week? Or is that included in the ‘putting our past behind us’ thing?”

“I’ve been alright. I took some time off to go visit my parents while you were gone. Just to kind of reset and think about some stuff. I know we have a lot to figure out and it’s not going to be easy, but I think it will be better this time.” I nod and let myself think that this whole thing is going to be okay eventually. “Well, this is me. You want to come up?” Something dances behind Dylan’s eyes and even though I know I shouldn’t, I find myself saying yes.

 

A half hour finds us sitting on his couch, each nursing a glass of whiskey. Things have gotten slightly awkward in the past few minutes, both of us having run out of things to talk about. Dylan scoots just a fraction closer and sets his glass on the coffee table. He smoothly lets his fingers trail over my knee as he reaches for the bottle to top off his glass. I can’t ignore the sparks the touch ignites under my skin. Every fiber of my being is screaming to push Dylan into the couch and kiss the life out of him. _This is a do-over. Get up. Walk away before you get in too deep. Leave._

“Dylan, I should g…” I’m cut off by Dylan wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and kissing me forcefully. It’s easy, kissing Dylan. We fall back into old habits. He nips under my left ear and I tug on his hair just hard enough. His fingers snake under the hem of my dress and brush up my right thigh. “What happened… to starting over?”

“Fuck starting over.”

“How eloquent…” Dylan bites at my jaw sharply, ripping a moan from my lips. “Hey… Wait… Dylan, we shouldn’t. We need to talk before any of this happens.” Dylan frowns and tries to pull me back in. “No, we can’t. This is exactly what happened last time. We jumped in way too quickly.” He groans and flops back onto the couch. A chuckle escapes me as I curl into his chest and push my face into his neck. “Now, I didn’t say I wasn’t going to stay. Let’s make a five-date rule. No sex until date five. That way, we will actually learn how to communicate with one another without that.”

“Yeah, I guess that is probably a good idea. Though, it doesn’t mean I’m not going to be thinking about that ass every time you turn around.” I smack his arm and call him a pig, but he just grins at me and pulls me back to his chest.

If I sleep better wrapped in his arms than I have all week, no one needs to know.

 

Dates two through four go as well as date number one. Dylan takes me to a play at a small theater in East Hollywood, to a Lakers game, and then on a hike outside LA. I’d be lying if I said the hike wasn’t my favorite. The two of us talked more than we ever have and ended up finding a small swimming hole about an hour into the hike.

Dylan strips down to his underwear and jumps in like its nothing. I can’t ignore the way his boxers cling to him as he gets out, shaking the water from his hair. Rivulets of water slide down his chest and they make me want to chase them with my tongue. It takes all of my self-preservation to avoid glancing at the outline of _things_ in his shorts. A snort comes from him and my glance is forced to his face.

“Hey, the five-date rule was your idea, remember?” He folds his arms and all I want to do is shove him back into the water so I don’t have to be faced with all of _that_. So, I do. He comes up sputtering, but laughing. “You gonna join me or just stand there with your filthy thoughts?” My ears turn hot as I pull my tank top over my head. I dive in with the grace of a competitive swimmer, coming up for air dangerously close to Dylan. One glance at Dylan and I can tell he is having trouble controlling himself as well.

“Now who’s having filthy thoughts?” His response is to splash me then pull me under the water. I reach the surface sputtering for air and when my vision clears, I find myself with Dylan’s arms around my waist and his face inches from mine. The sun is shining through his eyes, making them almost glow amber. He is so close that I can see the droplets of water catching on his eyelashes and the beginning of five o’clock shadow along his jaw. Leaning in, he matches me and moves back.

“I thought you said no sex until date five. We have one more date.”

“I did say no sex. But that doesn’t mean I can’t kiss you. People kiss all the time.” Dylan makes a funny face and pushes away from me. “What’s wrong?”

“Look, I know that we are supposed to be starting over and everything, which I think is really working, but that doesn’t mean that I can completely forget about before. It’s been so long since we’ve had sex that I barely remember what your skin feels like against mine. Do you know how crazy that makes me? That I can’t have sex with the girl I have been in love with for years? That I can’t tell her I love her? That I can’t touch her without wanting to take my time taking her apart just so I can put her back together?” Dylan runs his fingers through his hair and tugs on it, making it stick up every which way. “I’m sorry, but I can barely look at you without wanting to drag you to bed and not let you leave.” I cautiously move toward him and he lets me, regarding me carefully.

“You think that I don’t feel the same way? Because let me tell you, every time we go on a date, you do things that you don’t even realize drive me wild. Like when you itch at your stomach and your shirt rides up? When you stick things in your mouth because you have nothing better to do? When you make noises when you like food a little too much? I don’t think you understand what that stuff does to me. You really don’t. I’m pretty sure I have scarred Holland with how many times I have had to take matters into my own hands… literally…” Dylan’s face turns pink at that and I let myself kiss his cheeks. My hands come up to frame his face, my thumbs swiping over his cheekbones. “So you know what? I’m going to go home and get cleaned up. Then you are going to meet me at that coffee shop on the corner by your place. And that will be our fifth date. Because I am fairly certain that both of us will explode if we wait any longer.” Dylan nods frantically and kisses me hard before getting out of the water and slipping back into his shorts.

 

Before the door to Dylan’s apartment clicks shut, his arms are around my waist and his tongue is down my throat. Not that I am complaining. At all. Dylan breaks away and moves to start a trail of marks from my ear to my collarbone. I can feel the heat of his arousal against my thigh and I start to push him toward the couch, unbuttoning his shirt as we go.

Dylan nearly falls onto the couch and a low moan escapes his throat as I kneel between his legs. Carefully unzipping his jeans and getting a hand in his boxers, I glance at Dylan whose eyes are closed and head is tossed back. _You do this to him. You are the one that turns him into a helpless wreck. This is all you._ I can’t help but preen at that fact. The weight of Dylan in my hand is almost perfect. The velvet-soft skin and slight slickness from the precome leaking out of the head are too much for me to not have my mouth on. Dylan’s eyes fly open when I sink down as far as I can. One of his broad hands wraps around the back of my neck, not pushing, just supporting. I’ve always respected the fact that Dylan never takes what he wants, only what he is given, trusting me to give him what he needs.

The feeling of him heavy on my tongue is even better than in my hand. Coupled with the completely obscene sounds coming from Dylan’s mouth, it almost makes the not-so-pleasant taste not matter. I’d be lying if I said I liked giving blowjobs, but seeing Dylan like this makes me want to treat him to this all the time. His cheeks and neck are flushed, his eyes are dark, lips bitten pink and pulled between his teeth, chest heaving and a hand buried in his hair. It’s probably cliché, but I would go so far as to call the sight angelic. Because damn son. Dylan is gorgeous all strung out on sexual tension.

“Hey, hey, hey… Mary… mmmm. You gotta stop… Hnnngggg…” He tugs on my hair and I reluctantly pull away, dragging the back of my hand over my mouth. “I have a feeling you don’t want this to end here. And neither do I. So, no more of that. For now…” Dylan swipes his thumb over my jaw. Instinctually, I lean into his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. If you looked at the tenderness in the moment, you wouldn’t think I had his dick in my mouth thirty seconds ago. “Come on, baby.” Is it weird that I still flush at that dumb nickname?

 

If you talked to Dylan in a normal setting, you would think that he was kind of shy, maybe even a little nervous around people. Looking at the man above me now with the smirk he has on, you would think he was the cockiest asshole in all of LA. Dylan looks like he is so proud of himself for taking away my ability to form cognitive thoughts. The string of filthy things he keeps whispering in my ear really doesn’t help. He goes on and on about how gorgeous I look, how well I take his dick, how good I feel, how much he’s missed this. If my skin wasn’t already red from him rubbing his scruff all over me, I would blush.

My hands skitter up Dylan’s abs, feeling them twitch under my touch. My nails dig into his shoulders in a way that will probably leave marks, but it is payback for the hickeys he has been sucking into my skin every chance he gets. I start to feel heat building in my knees, a signal that I am getting close.

Dylan shifts his hips slightly and all I can do is whine in a way that I hope says ‘do that again’. As always, he reads my like a book and does just that. Over and over and over; until I am so close to the edge that I feel like crying.

“Please…” I manage to get out. Dylan groans and bites down over my collarbone, very nearly breaking skin. It kind of fucking hurts, but it is what I need for my orgasm to come crashing so hard I stop breathing for a few seconds. Dylan continues to chase his release and I feel a few tears slip out of my eyes, though I can’t quite figure out why. He groans loudly again as his hips stutter to a halt. His teeth stay firm against my collarbone, his body falling against me and making my breath rush out of my lungs. Sliding a hand through Dylan’s sweat-soaked hair, I wait patiently for him to catch his breath. “You gonna let go of me anytime soon?” He makes a non-committal noise, but releases my skin from his bite. I let out a small yelp when he runs his tongue over the mark.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to bite down that hard…” Dylan looks absolutely ridiculous. His hair is sticking in every direction, his skin is sticky with sweat and other just as unpleasant things, he reeks of sex – well, the whole room reeks of sex – but the look of pure bliss on his face makes his appearance less absurd. “I love you,” Dylan mutters from where his face is pillowed on my chest.

“I love you, too… So… Am I allowed to ask when I can move back in or is that not appropriate pillow talk?” Dylan gets a funny look on his face and suddenly I am worried that something has gone awry and I’ve misinterpreted something along the way. “Uh, nevermind… Forget I even brought it up. It was stup…” Dylan cuts me off by crashing his lips into mine. There’s a clash of teeth and we both wince, but when he pulls back, the weird look hasn’t gone away. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just… I didn’t…”

“You didn’t think I would want to move back in?” Dylan nods and looks slightly sheepish. He tries to hide his face in my neck, but I catch his jaw between my hands. “Hey, I know that last time around didn’t end well, but you know what? We are different now. I was always happy with you, but it feels… it feels right this time. Does that make sense?”

“I just don’t think I can handle losing you again…”

“Me either… So, let’s make some promises right now to prevent history from repeating itself. First, we promise to call each other if there is a change of plans. I never knew where you were and that scared the shit out of me. Two, I promise not to run and avoid when things get rough.” Dylan nods and moves to sit up, leaning against the head board.

“I promise not to spend so much time doing publicity. I promise to put you above my career.”

“Well, wait, hold on. We should change that and say that we need to have dinner together at least three days a week. I don’t want you to stop focusing on your career. I know how important it is to you.”

“ _You_ are what’s important to me.” I roll my eyes at the cheesy line, but my heart does a little flip in my chest at his words. “And I can do that. Three days a week. Oh, I promise to either call you or leave a note if I go somewhere.” Sleep is starting to tug at the edges of my consciousness and I allow myself to flop onto Dylan’s shoulder, smiling when he wraps an arm tightly around my waist. “We’ll make a list of these tomorrow and put it on the fridge, so we never forget.”

 

 

 

 

 

“So, wait, how long have you two been together?” The interviewer sticks the microphone under my nose and Dylan’s arm just tightens where it’s around my waist.

“It depends…”

“Depends on what?” The interviewer seems perplexed by my answer and Dylan just laughs.

“Whether or not you take the one time we broke up for a week or not.” The woman’s eyebrows shoot up at that and she turns to Dylan, clearly hoping he will elaborate. He smiles into my hair and bites back another round of laughter.

“Well, there was a point a few years back where the way we were doing things just wasn’t working. We took some time apart, figured out some stuff, and we’ve been better ever since.” Dylan pulls me in for a quick kiss, making the interviewer coo. “This woman is the love of my life, but sometimes just being in love with someone isn’t enough to make it all go smoothly. You have to figure out what level of communication works best for you. And take it from me when I say it needs to be one of the first things you work out as a couple.”

“Well, there you have it. Love advice from Mr. Dylan O’Brien himself.” My face flushes and I move to push my face into his chest, bringing my hand up to rest on his shoulder. “Hold on. What’s that? Is that a ring I’m seeing on your hand there Mary?” The woman’s eyes go comically wide as she looks straight at the camera. The microphone is shoved under my nose again.

“Uh, yeah it is…” I flash the simple white gold band with a center one-karat diamond that Dylan insisted I have. He outright refused to buy me anything smaller.

“So when are you tying the knot?” This woman looks as though she has just discovered a lost ancient civilization.

“Funny story…” Dylan scrubs at the back of his neck and smiles lopsidedly. “We kind of already did…” The woman squeaks and Dylan just smiles at me in the way that never fails to make me melt. “We had something really small, mostly family and a few friends.”

 

 _Pacing back and forth really isn’t helping the weird fluttering feeling going on in my stomach._ Calm down… You’re just getting married. _Holland pokes her head into the room and gives me a sympathetic look, calls me sweetheart._

_“You know everything is going to be perfect, right?” I nod, but her reassurances don’t make the panic in my chest lighten in any way. My hands are shaking as I wipe them on my dress. My lungs decide to start working independently of my brain and I can’t breathe. Holland is at my side immediately. “Mary? What’s going on? What do you need?”_

_“Dylan.” The word comes out of my mouth before I can even think about what would help. She gives me a disapproving look and crosses her arms. “Holland, I am about to have a fucking panic attack. Get me Dylan or, so help me god, I will revoke your rights as maid of honor.”_

_“You know you can’t see him right, it’s breaking tradition. I want everything to go perfectly and you don’t mess with tradition.” I just glare at her and hope that I don’t look too pathetic curled up in the corner. She must take pity on me because soon she is leaving the room, muttering something about wrinkled dresses. A few minutes of fighting off the panic threatening to cave my chest in and I am ready to call this whole fucking thing off. Why I am so freaked out, I have no idea. Dylan and I have been committed to one another for years. How is signing a piece of paper and celebrating with friends and family going to make it any different?_

_I am on the very edge of absolutely losing my shit when there is a small knock on the door. It cracks open, but no one comes in. I don’t look up, too focused on trying to follow my breathing techniques._

_“Mary? Are you okay? Holland said you needed me?” Dylan’s voice floating in from the hallway takes the edge off just slightly._

_“Get your ass… in here…”_

_“Mare, you know I can’t do that. Holland will kill me if she finds out that I broke her rules and traditions.” I don’t miss the way Dylan’s voice is shaking, almost like he is as nervous as I am. “What’s going on, babe? Why did Holland tell me to go deal with my ‘crazy bride’?”_

_“Because… I am about…to have a fucking… panic attack… And I need you in here…” The door creaks open and I manage to look up from where I am slumped against the wall. Dylan is in the room now, but he has his back turned to me. “Dylan… I’m fucking serious…” Dylan slowly turns around, but his eyes are closed. He peeks on eye open, like if he only looks with one eye, it doesn’t count as seeing me before the ceremony. His face goes through a series of emotions. From nervous, to terrified, to misty-eyed, and back to nervous. Dylan moves toward me, sliding down the wall to sit next to me. The moment he wraps his arms around me, I can feel the beat of his heart against my cheek where it’s pressed into his chest. I start to match my breathing with his pulse._

_“I’m scared too, if that makes you feel any better…” The words are spoken quietly into my hair when the panic has worked its way out of my system. “I’m not sure why though. I love you so much. I know you love me too. We’ve lived together for years. Nothing is going to change, except I get to call you my wife instead of my girlfriend. So, why am I so fucking terrified that this is going to make everything different? I like our life right where it is…”_

_“Maybe you are scared because this is finally telling you that there is no way you will ever get rid of me now. You’re stuck with me.”_

_“Mary… I was stuck with you the moment you wandered onto the Teen Wolf set…” Dylan kisses me hard and I can feel the back of my eyes start to itch._

_“You’re such a sap. I’m going to tell everyone. But I am pretty sure that I was stuck with you the moment you batted those eyelashes at me to brainwash me into reading lines with you.”_

_“You two are disgusting. Now, Dylan, get the hell out. We have a wedding to put on. Let’s go. I will not be late for that amazing cake I picked out.” Holland is standing  in the doorway, trying to look annoyed when all she really looks is fond._

 

“Were you keeping it a secret for a reason?” She looks like we personally offended her by not calling her the moment it happened.

“We didn’t keep it a secret, so much as just not broadcasting it all over the place,” I retort. “It didn’t seem important to us that the entire world know. We figured people would find out in their own time and we didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I’ve been committed to Dylan for years; signing a piece of paper didn’t change that…”

“Well, ladies and gents,” the lady drawls, addressing the camera. “You heard it here. The oh so desirable Dylan O’Brien is off the market for good.” She turns back to us and gives us a smile that kind of makes my skin crawl. “Congrats on your new movie O’Brien and a belated congrats on your marriage.” I reach to twist around the ring that still feels a little foreign and heavy on my finger as Dylan tugs me away from the interviewer.

“You know your phone is gonna blow up now, right?” And sure enough, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel his phone vibrate through his pants pocket where I am pushed against his hip. Dylan just smiles at me and tugs me down the red carpet as fans scream and cameras flash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again, lovlies. I love you all. Come say hi on tumblr at offmyrocker95.

**Author's Note:**

> I love all of you. :D Let me know if i missed any tags or if there are any mistakes. Thank you for reading! *Smooches for all*


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